


Savage Love

by iwadimples



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake Dating, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, Unrequited Love, actually requited oikawa’s just really really stupid, casually rich boys, fashion designer oikawa, infuriating stupid idiot oikawa, oikawa’s denial game is strong, one night stands that aren’t really, poor pining idiot iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwadimples/pseuds/iwadimples
Summary: Tooru was just supposed to be a one night. He was just supposed to be like every other pretty boy Hajime slept with on a routine basis.And yet, Hajime gets swept away in the typhoon that is Oikawa Tooru, anyway. Falls so thoroughly in love that even if he knows this is all just a means to and end for the other, Hajime still hopes that at the end of the day, Tooru will stay.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s), minor matsuhana - Relationship
Comments: 17
Kudos: 86





	Savage Love

**Author's Note:**

> Oya, here’s my first longer short fic! I tried to do something with the hq siblings bc they came out around when I was writing this but I couldn’t fit in dating bokuroo siblings as much as I had wanted

Hajime’s perfect Friday night out was one just like tonight. Neon lights that in the darkness of the club highlighted sharp features, a pulsing bass that could be felt all the way to the core, and so many people one could barely tell one from another. But every so often, a particularly special one would step out from the sea of bodies and approach. He would chat with them, maybe do a little bit of drinking and dancing, and eventually they’d find their way to some place more private, and after they had their fun, they would never speak again.

Dating wasn’t in Hajime’s vocabulary. Unlike his best friend, Matsukawa Issei, who was single because he had yet to find the right person and wanted to, Hajime was single by choice. He didn’t need romance or attachment, only a partner to warm his bed every now and then.

And since both he and Issei were young, healthy, handsomely attractive men, they met at least every other Friday, sometimes two in a row, to hang out at the nightclub. Sometimes their other friends joined them, but usually, like tonight, they were busy and it was just himself and Issei. Very rarely did either of them ever leave alone, and on this particular night, Hajime found himself hitting the jackpot. 

Hajime was perched at the bar, watching the floor of dancers, Issei having disappeared to the restroom. He was nursing his second glass of the night— he didn’t drink much, he liked to be sober for his nightly activities— when  _he_ approached him. 

He was a beautiful man, perhaps the most beautiful Hajime had ever laid his eyes on. His build was tall, and Hajime could tell much of his height came from long legs, currently shown off in black ripped skinny jeans. There was a simple, decorative belt around his waist, showing off his slender build even more, and tucked into the belt and pants was a silk button-up of royal teal. From his ears dangled chains of silver that sparkled when the light hit them in just the right angle. A quick glance down revealed rings adorning fingers that Hajime noted were beautifully long and slender.

And his face, absolutely gorgeous. From the front, his face was all soft curves, but from the side, Hajime could see the line of his jaw. His eyes were big and brown, matching the soft chocolate waves of his hair, but when they met Hajime’s, he could see the sharp intelligence, the kind that indicated the mind of someone who was ambitious and viscous, who could cut someone down with the information gleaned in just a glance. It was almost intimidating.

Almost, because Hajime liked his men with a bit more fire. And it seemed that whatever this beautiful stranger saw in him, the stranger liked in his men.

Hajime learned that his name was Oikawa Tooru. They made small talk over drinks, though it seemed they both shared the sentiment of preferring the sober experience. Eventually they made their way to the dance floor, and Hajime quickly learned that Tooru knew how to move his body. Their bodies pressed together, and Tooru moved his hips for Hajime while Hajime’s hands traced the shape of the other. They moved in perfect sync to the beat of the music, like the beat was apart of them, and it was something they had danced to together for years. Between the heat and the way their bodies moved perfectly together, things quickly turned more erotic, with hands venturing into more private territory, lips beginning to explore the feel of foreign skin, and gazes that burned. 

Eventually they decided to leave the club. Hajime caught sight of Issei with another man in a booth in the corner. Issei’s companion contrasted him in the ways that his hair was a light pink hue and his face was far more expressive. But he also seemed to fit Issei, because Issei possessed the same chaotic energy gleaming in his companion’s eyes, hidden beneath his calm demeanor and sleepy eyes. There was mischievous brewing in the air between them, the same kind that caused Hajime grey hairs when coming from his best friend, and between the exploring touches and easy looks, it was okay to leave Issei.

They ended up at Tooru’s apartment because it was closer. As they moved deeper in, Hajime didn’t pay attention to the color of the walls, what furniture Tooru furbished his home with, nor what decorations he chose to hang or place on tables. He didn’t note the location of the kitchen or bathroom, or how many doors they passed before they made it to Tooru’s bedroom.

What he did notice, though, was the roughness with which Tooru pinned him against the wall. The heat of Tooru’s breath as it ghosted across his lips, along the column of his neck, behind his ear, down his chest, and the searing touch of every place they connected, skin to skin. He noticed that when Tooru dropped him into the bed that the sheets were silk and the mattress soft. He noticed that Tooru’s hands were skilled, opening and spreading him apart with expertise, and after that, gripping and touching Hajime in just the right places. It wasn’t just his hands, though. Tooru knew exactly what he was doing in all parts of sex, using his sinful mouth to drag Hajime just close to the edge but leaving him quivering and wanting more before he finally ripped open a condom with his teeth, rolling it over himself with precision and practiced speed, and finally gave Hajime what he wanted.

Their actions were rough and fast. It just seemed to be the way Tooru worked, a living ember that burned wildly and passionately. He left marks all over Hajime, and Hajime was fairly certain he would be walking with little ease later that day, for by the time they finished, it was early morning. Hajime couldn’t complain though. He had matched Tooru’s ferocity with an intensity of his own, leaving just as many bruises and bites, and certainly making his conquest one that wasn’t easily won.

Their late night slash early morning ended with a mind-splintering climax like Hajime had never felt before, with a flash of hot white and stars in his vision. Tooru fell over the edge with him, Hajime’s name gasped breathlessly while his face scrunched in the prettiest way Hajime had ever seen. They were both out soon after, a result of a mixture of their long days before meeting at the club, being at the club itself, the activities they had just finished, and the late hour.

When they woke up hours later, Tooru looked at Hajime with a contemplative, hungry look. When Hajime questioned him, Tooru simply smirked, swung a leg over Hajime so he was straddling his lap, leaned in and asked, “Round two?”

Hajime didn’t do round twos, yet he found himself indulging anyway. It helped that his time with Tooru had been the best sex he had ever had in his life, and he had slept with all sorts of people, in so many different positions. The second time was just as good as the first, if not even better, because now they had an idea of what got the other going, what places made them squirm and where they were sensitive. Tooru dangled Hajime’s climax in front of him much like he had done the first time, only this time Hajime was beneath him on his stomach, the flushed and hard length of his cock in Tooru’s hand, physically preventing Hajime from achieving wonderful release. It wasn’t until Hajime was begging that Tooru finally let him have it. Hajime couldn’t even be mad about the cruelty of it, because a little part of him was a bit of a masochist, and not being allowed to come has been hot as hell, especially with the way Tooru had been leaned over him, whispering obscene praises into his ear.

And somehow, what was meant to be a one night stand turned into not only two rounds of mind blowing sex, but dinner far later in the day, after Hajime had returned home and they had both rested and freshened up at their separate apartments.

Hajime found himself enjoying Tooru’s company, laughing and joking and having pleasant conversation. It was nice, to click so well with someone. If anything else, he thought, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Little did Hajime know, though, it was actually the beginning of devastating heartbreak.

* * *

When Tooru had gone to the club that fateful Friday, he had simply been wanting a distraction for the night. A little fun. And he found it in Hajime. He was delighted when he took Hajime home and found that the attractive stranger matched him so perfectly, pushing back just as much as Tooru shoved, giving as much as he took. It was too bad Tooru needed to be in control of the flow, Hajime had been just as defiant and feisty as Tooru, it made Tooru wonder what he would’ve been like if he had let Hajime top instead. 

When he woke up after their first round, Tooru had been ready to say goodbye. He knew they had both slept together planning for it to be a one time thing only, but then he took a good look at Hajime, took in just how attractive he really was, now more visible under the streams of sunlight that spilled in between Tooru’s curtains, accentuating every sharp curve, thought of how amazing sex with him had been, and an idea began to form. 

Hajime was the perfect candidate for Tooru’s plan, and Tooru had a feeling Hajime wasn’t the kind who easily caught feelings. So he proposed a second round of sex, and when Hajime planned to leave, asked if he wanted to meet for dinner. Hajime, to his delight, agreed to both.

Dinner conversation had gone just as well as he hoped it would, and now Tooru was sure. 

He was going to use Hajime to get back at his ex.

* * *

“You have that look on your face.”

Issei’s comment startled Hajime from his thoughts, aforementioned look dissolving and turning dubious. “What look?”

Issei smirked. It wasn’t the kind that stretched across one’s face and sent annoyance at the sheer audacity of its arrogance. No, his smirk was even more infuriating, a simple quirk of the lips that said he knew more than you and was going to hold it over your head. “The  _I’m-in-love-with-him_ face. It’s also known as the  _fuck, he makes me so happy wow I’m a smitten idiot_ face.”

Hajime’s brows scrunched together, a frown forming on his face instead. “I do not make that face. Ever.”

“You do!” A new voice jumped into the conversation. Hajime and Issei looked up to see the arrival of their friends, consisting of the Bokuto siblings and one Akaashi Keiji. Bokuto Kotarou was the youngest, a little brother with two older sisters, dating Keiji, and he was the one who agreed with Issei. His sisters were quick to chime in their agreements.

“You definitely have that face.”

“You’ve been making it ever since you and that Oikawa started seeing each other.”

Hajime and Tooru didn’t start dating right away. At first they simply met up every occasionally, going out to eat together or lounging around one of their apartments. Sometimes that led to going other places, lots of times there was sex involved before, after, or both. Eventually the casual hangouts became more frequent, and then one day, Tooru had suggested out of the blue, “We should date.”

For some inexplicable reason, instead of immediately shooting down the idea, Hajime and shrugged and said “okay.” He figured it would be something casual, and he wasn’t opposed to that. They already met up often for sex and he supposed their little hangouts could be considered dates. With how focused Tooru was on his fashion designing (he was the top designers at one of Japan’s most prestigious companies, Grand King Designs, it was called, and Tooru was poised to inherit and own all of it), Hajime figured it wouldn’t change much from that. He didn’t even think Tooru felt that way for him, and it still didn’t really seem like he harbored any meaningful affections, so Hajime didn’t really understand why Tooru proposed form them to date. But then again, he didn’t understand why he agreed, either. 

(He would deny it, but he had already begun to fall.)

Tooru had clapped happily, exclaiming in a too-cheery tone, “I’m dating Iwachan, now!”

Hajime had gaped. “What did you just call me?” Before then, Tooru had just been calling him “Iwa”, because apparently Hajime’s last name was too long, yet Tooru had also said “Iwa” was too short and had been trying to find a better nickname. Apparently, he had found it. 

Tooru grinned at Hajime, wagging a finger. “We’re dating now, so we need cute nicknames for each other!”

Hajime gave him the flattest deadpan he could muster. “No way in hell, Shittykawa.”

It was Tooru’s turn to gape indignantly. “You can’t call me that anymore!”

“It’s a nickname, isn’t it?”

“It’s not  _cute_ !” 

Hajime smirked, bringing his glass up to hide behind. “It’s cute enough for me.” Which was a lie, the nickname wasn’t cute at all and he knew it, but for argument’s sake he was going to consider it so.

“That’s because you have the tastes of a caveman!” Tooru cried.

“So what does it mean that you fall under my tastes?”

Tooru crosses his arms, raising his nose haughtily. “Even a broken clock can be right two times a day. I’m clearly a favorable lapse in your terrible judgement.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. A stupid grin sat on his face as it often did in the presence of Tooru’s ridiculous antics, another thing he would deny. To hide it, he pointed at Tooru’s bowl of ramen, which hadn’t been touched since being brought out and Tooru made his befuddling suggesting. “Dumbass, eat before it gets cold.”

“You can’t call me that either!” Tooru cried yet picked up his chopsticks to listen to Hajime. Despite the fit he was making a show of throwing, there was a smile on his face, too. 

The evening passed as it usually did, and eventually they parted ways, bellies full and warm. The only difference was that they held hands on their way to the train station, for they had ventured out farther than they usually do, and when Hajime boarded his own, Tooru pecked his cheek goodbye. Hajime’s skin tingled when Tooru pulled away, continued to for a while after, and Hajime wondered what other new things would come with dating Tooru.

Hajime found that the best way to describe dating Tooru was intense. He already knew that Tooru was physically affectionate, the brunette had a tendency to hang all over Hajime before they started dating, but after, he seemed to always be touching Hajime. Sometimes it was an arm around the waist or neck, a finger in a belt loop, gentle fingers in Hajime’s hair, or often times they held hands. Oddly though, Hajime noticed the affectionate touches only happened in public. When it was only the two of them, Tooru seemed to revert back to how they were before dating, only making friendly physical content like a poke to the cheek to be annoying. He didn’t shy away if Hajime initiated anything chaste like handholding or cuddling, not that Hajime often did, but Tooru himself definitely wasn’t offering as much skin-ship as when there were people around to see.

Hajime didn’t think much of it, though. Tooru seemed to be the kind who liked to flaunt and be flashy in the public eye, but in reality was a rather private, reserved guy. Take, for example, the fake smiles that he offered easily and often to just about anyone. Another thing was that Tooru was constantly sharing things on his social media. It was always small things, like what he was doing that day or something cool he had discovered on one of his many inspiration expenditures, all sorts of things that appealed to the public that people liked to see coming from a good-looking young success. Included in these things was his blossoming relationship with a devilishly attractive and ruggedly charming boyfriend. Every time they went out, and Tooru insisted he and Hajime go out often, whether it was for dates or just to be with each other, Tooru posted at least five pictures with both of them participating in the day’s activities.

Hajime didn’t mind the posts, nor did he care to look at what Tooru captioned them since he didn’t bother with social media himself, however he had glimpsed a few of the captions, and found them to be overly cheesy or flaunting. Hajime had snorted and called Tooru shitty for it, because they both knew how perfect their relationship looked and both knew that Tooru was most definitely rubbing it in everyone’s faces.

Hajime had then asked if it was necessary to post that many pictures, to which Tooru had sniffed and proclaimed indignantly that of course it was necessary. He then took the opportunity to tease Hajime and began a lamentation on how he knew it was hard for Iwachan to understand as a caveman, but Tooru was a rather popular and sought-after bachelor, and if he didn’t make it obvious that he was truly taken and off the market, that poor Iwachan would have to deal with dedicated admirers trying to steal Tooru’s affections, and then where would they be? 

Hajime proceeded to reach across their little table in the corner of a homey cafe and whack Tooru across the head, because the nearest thing to throw was a pretty, decorative glass that Tooru’s milkshake had come in, all the while reminding Tooru that the designer had approached  _him_ at the club when they met and that Hajime had slept with plenty of people before Tooru and could still do so if he was still single. (Not that he wanted to, impossibly, the sex they had together was always better than the last.)

And that was another thing. Tooru’s kisses were searing, always heated and charged with an intoxicating fire that left Hajime weak in the knees. Their sex was always as wild as Tooru was, intense, overwhelming, maybe even savage. Hajime loved every bit of it, though, left only with the ability to crawl back for more.

On top of all of this, Tooru was often doing little things for Hajime. He visited Hajime when he happened to be near the center that Hajime worked at, waiting patiently if he was with a client. It hadn’t surprised Tooru when Hajime told him he was a physical therapist, the brunette saying it fit Iwachan. They almost always met for lunch, Tooru either bringing some or they both left to eat together.

Hajime often worked late at night, even long after he had finished the hours that he actually got paid for, examining the progress of his clients and figuring out the best plan of action for each so that they could heal and be back on their feet as soon and as well as possible.

When Tooru asked Hajime why a physical therapist and why he worked so hard, Hajime told him that he wanted to help as many people as he could. He had been the ace of his volleyball team, to which Tooru had perked upon hearing, getting them sidetracked as they talked about growing up in love with volleyball, both becoming captains of their own teams and Tooru the setter of his own. They were a match made in heaven, Iwachan, he said.

Hajime rolled his eyes at the cheesiness of the statement and continued that knew what it was like to be so in love with something that health was often neglected, and sometimes wasn’t taken care of until it was too late. Or maybe there was an injury completely unrelated to what someone was in love with, and instead they needed to heal to return to a normal life and their passions. Either way, Hajime wanted to be able to help as many people as he could, making sure they recovered the best they could and minimizing chances for a second injury, and he thought being a physical therapist was the best way to do that.

Tooru admired Hajime for finding purpose and joy in something so selfless. And when he often found Hajime leaning over papers and reports and definitely being a hypocrite about taking care of oneself, he would sit behind Hajime and massage the knots from the other’s body, sometimes forcing him to stop working if it was getting late. And when Hajime wasn’t staying up late but still working, Tooru brought him snacks and made sure he took enough breaks, dragging Hajime out of his apartment and away from paperwork if he needed to. 

There were the other little things, too. The ones that weren’t big gestures, but small things that said Hajime was on his mind. He sent Hajime pictures of things that said made him think of the other, or just straight up gifted it to him if he thought Hajime would like it. (Hajime was by no means on a low wage, but it seemed like Tooru always had endless wealth to spend. If this were a different universe, he could probably be a sugar daddy. Hajime had no idea fashion designers made so much money.) Tooru was doting and affectionate, making Hajime feel special and valued. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, and so was the way his heart fluttered and a warm affection filled him every time Tooru’s name so much as came up.

So okay, maybe he did smile a little wider and a little more often now, but he still didn’t have whatever stupid mushy gushy face Issei and the others claimed he made. 

He opened his mouth to argue, however judging by the amused glint in Keiji’s eyes, Hajime would find no ally in him, which meant this was a lost battle.

Hajime scoffed, sipping at the coffee he had ordered from

the cafe they had all agreed to meet at. “Ganging up on me isn’t fair.”

“It is when we’re right, Hajime-kun,” Kotarou’s oldest sister, Bokuto Miyoko snickered, pinching his cheek and stretching it out like she did when they were kids as the latest arrivals all sat around the outside table he and Issei had claimed. “Don’t argue with the truth and you won’t find yourself on the losing side.”

“It’s not the truth!” Hajime protested, batting her hand away. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Iwaizumi might be denying how smitten he is with his elusive boyfriend,  _I_ however, am not. And said boyfriend is on his way, so you guys better behave.” He glared at them all, eyes saying  _don’t embarrass me_ . Hajime and the Bokuto siblings shared a look, grinning deviously. Keiji chuckled while Issei sighed in long suffering.

That Friday night hadn’t only been prosperous for Hajime. Issei too had found interest in the mischievous stranger Hajime had seen him with before leaving. They hadn’t fucked that first night like Tooru and Hajime, but they had hit it off, exchanging numbers and beginning the talking stage. They started dating about three days later, because they knew they clicked well and didn’t see the need in being skittish and hesitant and now they wanted to introduce their friends to each other. 

“Where is this ‘Takahiro’ anyway?” Kotarou’s younger elder sister, Tsukiko asked. She examined her nails, manicured and perfect as always. “We have to make sure he’s good for our Issei-kun. If he’s not...” She flashed an impish grin.

The table collectively shivered. Bokuto Tsukiko was generally a kind and gentle soul, but hurt her loved ones, and she could become the mistress of every burning hell ever believed to exist.

Issei took a sip of his drink, to quench his thirst or hide his nerves for Takahiro encountering Tsukiko, he wasn’t entirely sure, though maybe it was a bit of both. “Takahiro’s best friend apparently likes to take forever to make sure he looks the absolute best, even if whatever he’s attending isn’t about him. In Hiro’s words, it’s ‘really fucking annoying, and it’s illegal that the result is always stunning and worth it, so we’ll be a little late.’”

Hajime couldn’t contain his snort. That sounded exactly like a certain fashion designer he knew. 

Tsukiko merely hummed, taking her own drink, a cute raspberry cheesecake frappe with extra whipped cream, sipping at it and letting out a grateful sound of approval. Issei and Hajime had ordered everyone’s favorite drinks, and the others all graciously enjoyed them, taking out the money to pay them for their troubles, despite the two’s protests.

A few minutes later, Issei caught sight of light pink hair rounding the corner. He immediately jumped from his seat and met his boyfriend halfway, the two kissing upon sight and pulling back, stupid smiles on their faces. 

“Issei!”

“Hiro!”

Hajime and the others stood to join the couple and meet Takahiro’s friend group. The pink haired boy’s group of chosen friends was just as big as Issei’s, with three boys and two girls. Hajime, however, was focused on one. 

He stared at the tall male by Takahiro’s side, with trademark soft brown hair and exquisite yet simple fashion sense, mouth agape. The other was gaping back, and both said at the same time,

“Oikawa?”

“Iwachan?”

Everyone stared at them in confusion.

“Wait.” Hanamaki looked back and forth between the two, wheels turning inside his head. “Your best friend is Iwaizumi,” he said, pointing to Issei. “You’re seeing an Iwachan.... Iwa... Iwaizumi...” And then everything clicked for everyone. “Holy shit, Issei!”

“Yeah, our stupid best friends have been together this whole time and didn’t tell us.” Issei nodded sagely. 

“What are you talking about?! I literally post about him every day!” Tooru squawked, the shock of seeing Hajime subsiding. “It’s not my fault of you can’t put two and two together!”

“Okay, but neither did Issei! Nor did you! Or Iwaizumi!”

Oikawa sniffed defensively. “Iwachan calls him Matsukawa and you call him Issei, there’s not even any connotation! I call you Makki and Matsukawa probably calls you Takahiro! How were we supposed to know! At least we call each other by the other’s name or something close!”

“To be fair, Iwaizumi calls you Shittykawa more often than your actual name,” Matsukawa defended lazily.

“Hey, I actually call him Oikawa, too!” Hajime defended himself.

Tooru opened his mouth to speak, scandalized, then closed it, then opened it again, and stood there trying to decide if he was going to make a scene of Hajime’s heathen ways, or continue the argument on who was the biggest idiot.

Hajime saved him the trouble by declaring, “I say we blame Matsukawa and Hanamaki. Mainly Matsukawa since I actually told him your family name, but still both.”

Tooru agreed while Issei and Takahiro instantly began to protest and the four fell into light-hearted bickering. The others watched incredulously, some confused, amused, and a little bit of both. When people passing by began to rubberneck at the commotion, because they were very much still

in public, they figured it was best to break it up.

“As hilarious as all of this is,” a smooth voice drawled, and everyone looked in the direction of a tall man with a wild mess of raven hair, “I think we should finish introductions.”

“Ah, good point Kuroo,” Takahiro agreed. 

And thus began the grueling and chaotic task of introducing everyone. Takahiro and Issei started, introducing dramatically to their respective friends the other. Issei’s friends went next, starting with Hajime, then the Bokuto siblings, then Keiji. Next was Takahiro’s friend group.

Besides Tooru, there was Takahiro’s older sister, Hanamaki Takara. After her, Kuroo Tetsuro, the man who had brought everyone back on track, and his older sister, Kuroo Sayuri. Lastly there was Tetsuro’s boyfriend, Kozume Kenma. 

Hajime also learned Tooru had an older sister when Takahiro said the woman would’ve been present too if she wasn’t on a trip in Italy. Hajime was shocked to hear that Tooru had a sibling, as the latter for some reason didn’t speak much of his family, which didn’t make sense if he was so close to his sister, but Hajime brushed off the thought. They hadn’t introduced each other to the important people in their lives, after all, though Hajime had a fleeting moment of wondering why that was. For better or worse, the question wasn’t dwelt on, as Hajime became swept in the process of meeting new people.

After the chaos of their introductions, the large group headed down the street towards a ramen house, where it would be much easier to fit their large party of twelve and they could eat lunch. Someone made the comment that it would’ve been easier to just meet at the ramen place instead of detouring at the cafe first, Miyoko to be specific, and because it was his sister who pointed the obvious out, Takahiro denied the claim, which resulted in playful arguing until they were sitting with steaming hot food in front of them. 

Tooru and Hajime sat across from Issei and Takahiro. The others sat around them, and the large party of twelve shared pleasant conversation, jokes, and stories. It was a warm environment, with lots of laughs and smiles, along with new friendships formed.

Throughout the meal, Tooru was holding Hajime’s hand or leaning against him, and a few times he even fed Hajime bites of food that he knew Hajime liked. Hajime blushed and flustered every time Tooru did this, but he took it all with a smile anyway. Tooru was smiling just as wide as Hajime, eyes sparkling with delight, a happy tint in his cheeks as he joked and draped against Hajime and the two teamed up in embarrassing their best friends in front of each other, occasionally being joined by Miyoko. 

If Hajime had been paying attention, he would see the way those from Tooru’s friend group looked at the couple with a contemplative astonishment. As it was, however, he wasn’t paying attention, wholly focused on Tooru’s warmth against him and the bright ring of his laugh.

When the meal was done, the large group of newly formed friends gathered outside of the ramen shop, a bit to the side to stay of the way.

Kotarou and Keiji left first, the former having professional volleyball practice he needed to get ready for and the latter a meeting with his team at the publishing company he worked at.

Tooru made to leave with Hajime, but Takahiro beat them by latching onto Tooru’s arm and declaring, “Sorry Iwaizumi, but we need to borrow Oikawa real quick. It was nice meeting you, talk to you later!” And then he ran off, Tooru in tow. Their friends followed, only offering brief farewells before disappearing.

Hajime blinked after the sudden kidnapping, happening so fast he hadn’t even been able to argue. “Uh...”

“Wah! Bye Iwachan!” Tooru yelled, waving before he was out of sight, taken beyond the distant corner.

Miyoko stared after them in amusement and bewilderment, musing, “Wonder what all of that was about.”

“Suppose we’ll have to find out later,” Issei remarked before throwing an arm over Hajime’s shoulder and facing the Bokuto sisters. He didn’t seem as concerned by his boyfriend’s spontaneous kidnapping actions as he should be. “Anyway, you guys busy?”

The two looked at each other and shrugged. “Nah, what were you thinking?” 

Issei’s answering grin wasn’t reassuring to Hajime.

* * *

“Okay, spill.” Takahiro ordered once they had all piled into his apartment, shoving Tooru onto the couch.

“What did I do?!” Tooru squawked. 

“Since when were you dating someone?!” 

“What are you talking about, Makki? I told you, I post about him every day, and  _you_ like every one of them. Do you have amnesia?”

“Bah!” Takahiro threw his hands dismissively. “We thought you were just, you know, seeing him but not actually  dating . Like he was a fling or you were just using him to look good and get back with Nakajima, but you actually—“

“That’s because that _is_ what I’m doing,” Tooru cut in, rolling his eyes.

Takahiro stopped abruptly in his tracks. “What?”

Tooru raised his eyebrows. “I’m using Iwachan to get back with Yuma-chan.”

“ _What_ .” Takahiro repeated.

Tooru gave him a condescending look. “Makki, do you need your hearing checked? I  _said_ , I’m using—“

“No, no, shut up, I heard what you said,” Takahiro interrupted him. He looked at the others. “Are you hearing this right now.”

“Makki, just because you can’t hear—“

“Yeah, what the fuck, Oikawa,” Kuroo interrupted him. Sayuri and Takara were both giving the fashion designer judging stares. Kenma looked indifferent, yet Tooru still felt the disapproval rolling off of him.

“Why am I being gang up on like this?”

Takahiro pointed at Tooru instead of answering him. “Explain. Plan. Now.”

“Eh?”

“What the fuck are you doing, how the fuck did it start, why the fuck.” Takahiro elaborated shortly, sitting in a chair and rubbing at his temples.

Tooru frowned. Judging from the looks he was getting from everyone else, he didn’t have much of a choice but to explain. “I don’t see why this is of importance, but...”

And so Tooru explained. How he went to the club with Takahiro wanting to find someone to sleep with, how he saw Hajime at the bar and approached him and the two spent a good portion of the night together drinking, dancing and talking, how he took Hajime home, planning for it to only be a one night stand. But then he’d woken up, had seen how gorgeous Hajime was up close. And Tooru realized how perfect strong, handsome Hajime would be to make Nakajima Yuma jealous and make him come crawling back to Tooru. Hajime and Tooru looked so good as a couple, that it would make Yuma upset enough that Tooru had found someone else to be adorable and happy with, to dote on and papmper, that he’d want Tooru back for himself. So now here he was, looking as cute and domestic as possible with Hajime, until Yuma came crawling into his DMs. He’d make Yuma work, and then they’d be together again.

No one answered him at first. They were too stunned to.

And then,

“You are so fucking stupid.”

Oikawa guffawed, but Takahiro continued. “Seriously, what the fuck Oikawa. Like, holy shit, for a smart person, you are so  _dumb_ .”

“Does Iwaizumi even know you’re using him like this?” Tetsuro frowned.

“Of course he doesn’t!” Tooru threw his hands up. “It won’t be authentic if he thinks he has to act!”

“Okay, then tell him,” Takara hissed, smacking Tooru over the head. “Or break things off with him.”

“Ow!” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head, frowning up at the siblings. “Why do I need to break things off with him? As soon as Yuma-chan realizes what a terrible mistake he made, I’ll be done with Iwachan. Until then, he’s staying. It’ll be done in no time, no feelings hurt, and we can go back to our own lives when it’s all over.”

Takahiro scowled. “You’re absolutely sick for that. What if your plan isn’t even working?”

There was a timely  _ping_ just as Takahiro asked this.

Tooru whipped out his phone and looked at his home screen, a selfie he had taken of him and Hajime. He ignored it, looking instead at the new notification from Instagram. He grinned and showed off his phone to Takahiro, which said that user jima.yu had just liked one of Tooru’s group selfies from the lunch hangout. “And that, Makki, is your proof that my plan is working. Yuma-chan is taking notice. Just a little more prompting and he’ll start interacting. Play hard to get and he can’t resist. Soon enough, Yuma-chan will be mine again.”

Takahiro only scowled further and shoved the phone out of his face. “This is just proof that you’re stupid as hell. This plan is stupid, you’re stupid for thinking it was a good idea, and you’re also stupid for wanting to get back together with Nakajima.”

Tooru scoffed, stood abruptly, huffed in offense. “Why are you against this? It’s not like you haven’t had flings before. Any of you, for that matter,” he made sure to address the rest, who were all still silently judging him while Takahiro collectively spoke for all of them.

“That’s the issue! If you two were just a fling, fine, whatever, you sleep with whoever the hell you want. But you’re so damn focused on that piece of shit that you can’t see what’s right in front of you! If Iwaizumi was aware of what he was involved with, fine, but he doesn’t, and even worse, it’s so blatantly obvious that you two have genuine feelings for each other!”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Tooru started for the door, waving his hands flippantly. “Iwachan isn’t the type to  _catch_ feelings. I made sure of that before getting into this.”

“Where the hell are you  _going_ ?” Takahiro stood too, glaring after Tooru. “What if he does catch feelings Oikawa, huh? What are you going to do then?”

Tooru looked up from where he was putting his shoes on, staring back at Takahiro with an icy, apathetic stare. “He won’t.”

“But  _what if_ ?”

“He  _won’t_ . End of discussion.”

“No, not end of discussion! You need to tell him!”

Tooru wrapped his hand around the doorknob. “I’m not telling him.”

“And why is that, Oikawa?” Tetsuro asked before Takahiro could. The other was getting worked up, face red from anger, steam practically coming out from his ears. 

Tooru slid his gaze to Tetsuro, the latter lazed across a chair but staring at Tooru through piercing eyes. “What, Tettsun?”

Tetsuro remained unruffled by Tooru’s challenging tone, merely frowned slightly. “Why is it you don’t tell Hajime on what’s going on? If he’s not the type to catch feelings then surely he won’t care. But deep down, you know he  _has_ begun to harbor feelings, and if you told him, he would leave you? And why is it that bothers you? If you’re not attached to him, then it shouldn’t matter.”

“And that’s where you’re  wrong , Tettsun. If Iwachan and I split up all of a sudden, then who will I have to keep up this charade? It won’t matter if I’m with someone else to Yuma-chan. I have to seem like I’ve moved on. If I start bouncing from person to person, it’ll look like I’m still heartbroken and trying to fill the gaping hole he left behind. If I keep Iwachan, then it’ll look like I’ve found a new handsome boyfriend to focus on. And besides that,” Tooru smiled wickedly, “I’ve never had sex with anyone like Iwachan, and I’m going to make full use of him while I can.” Tooru didn’t even address the possibility of him being attached to Hajime. The others didn’t miss that, but before anyone could comment, he was opening the door, wiggling his fingers. “Anyways, I think I’ll go have some hot sex with Iwachan now! Bye-bye!”

“Oikawa I swear to the gods I’m going to tell him if you don’t!” Takahiro yelled.

“No you won’t!” Tooru sang, and then he shut the door. 

Takahiro cursed him soundly long after he left.

* * *

Tooru did not tell Hajime. In fact, he just so conveniently had Fashion Week in Paris to attend, able to use his preoccupation with that as an excuse as to why he didn’t bring his true intentions up. That and, he had brought Hajime with him, and he could say that Hajime was the only thing keeping him sane in the chaos and stress of being a part of the presenting designers, that he didn’t have time to really think about it.

“Iwachan, I’m back!” Tooru called out as he entered their shared luxury suite, perks of being one of the top designers in Fashion Week and fabulously wealthy. He made his way to the bedroom, shrugging off his blazer and beginning the process of removing all the jewelry he had chosen to wear. A few seconds later, the door connecting to the bath opened and Hajime walked out, wrapped in nothing but a towel around his waist and one he was using on his drying hair. He sent Tooru a small smile upon noticing him, greeting with a, “hey, ‘kawa.”

Tooru raised his brows at the other’s state, hungry eyes unabashedly running up and down Hajime’s body. Wordlessly, he approached the other and pulled him towards the bed before putting him in his lap, back pressed to chest. Hajime let out a startled sound, protesting, “You’ll get your clothes wet!”

“Ne, never mind my clothes, they’ll be coming off soon enough,” Tooru cooed. “What has Iwachan been up to while I was gone?” He ghosted his lips along Hajime’s neck, fingers dancing up the skin of his chest, warm from his obviously recent shower. 

Hajime shivered at the touch, flushing under the sudden attention of one Oikawa Tooru. “Uh, I went to the fitness center while you were gone,” he explained a bit shakily, squirming as Tooru nipped lightly as his skin, fingers now traveling south, rubbing circles into Hajime’s sensitive sides. He was obviously trying to rile Hajime up, and it was working a little too easily.

“Did you now?” Tooru asked, his voice silky soft as he whispered right next to Hajime’s ear. “I’m disappointed, I had to miss seeing Iwachan all hot and sweaty. But I’m sure I could get you in that state again, no?” He kissed the skin beneath Hajime’s ear, sucking lightly while playing with the towel around Hajime’s waist. He undid the little knot Hajime had tied, letting the towel unfold between them, the peach softness the only barrier between the potential mess about to be made and Tooru’s pants.

“I think one of us is a little overdressed,” Hajime pointed out roughly, shivers running down his spine at the sudden exposure, not that he’d been very coveted in the first place.

“Hm? That’s okay, I’m feeling rather generous. We’ll take care of Iwachan first.” As if Hajime had been the one to start this. He wasn’t going to complain though, especially not after Tooru began palming against Hajime’s rapidly hardening length. Hajime choked by the sudden grip, but Tooru didn’t stop, mouth claiming skin between the junction of Hajime’s neck.

“Did something...” Hajime bit his lip, trying to gather coherent thought around his slipping focus. “Did something good happen today with your meeting?”

“Mhm,” Tooru answered a bit absentmindedly, adjusting his hand to stroke the underside of Hajime’s length, focusing near the base before gliding back up to the tip. Hajime groaned, hips beginning to roll against Tooru’s hand, simultaneously brushing up welcomingly against Tooru’s own hardness. “Not really, but showing up people who underestimate you is always a little satisfying, isn’t it?”

“What happened?”

“The investor thought that since I’m so young and gorgeous—“ Tooru laughed as Hajime managed to elbow him for the tirade of self-inflating he was going to start, “What! I am! Sometimes I have to show my identifications still because people think I’m so youthful and beautiful!” 

Hajime snorted. “Just tell me what happened, stupid.” 

“I wouldn’t be calling the one with your cock in their hands stupid,” Tooru chastised, giving a good jerk of the wrist for emphasis. Hajime gasped, body jolting. “Anyways, as I was saying,” Tooru continued on, returning to his lazy pace, his breath hot against Hajime’s skin as he spoke against his throat. “They thought I was inexperienced and a stupid Japanese youth who didn’t understand French, or at least not enough to understand lengthy contracts. They tried to squeeze in some extra terms that would maximize their profits  and eventually bleed Grand King dry.” Tooru chuckled, and the sound reverberated along Hajime’s veins.

“Unfortunately for them, I’m fluent in ten languages, including French, and their terms were easy to spot.”

Hajime made a sound in the back of his throat, a mix between disbelief and arousal. Tooru smirked, thumb pressing into the slit of Hajime’s head. “What was that noise for, Hajime?”

Hajime was too busy moaning and throwing his head back, thrusting up into Tooru’s hand for more to answer immediately. Tooru took the opportunity to kiss further down along Hajime’s exposed neck. As he did this, Hajime answered, a smirk of annoyed pride on his face as he rasped, “Of course you’re fluent in ten different languages.”

“Does Iwachan like that I’m skilled with my tongue?” Tooru grinned against him. 

“I mean, your mouth can be infuriating—“ Hajime cursed as Tooru tightened his grip around him, “But I guess it has its merits sometimes.” 

“Only sometimes?” Tooru challenged.

“Yeah.” 

Tooru hummed in contemplation. “Alright then, Hajime. Let me show you just some of this merits of this mouth.” And before Hajime could comment, he was being made to stand up. As quickly as he had been made to stand, he was pushed back down onto the bed. There was the sound of clothes rustling as Tooru quickly stripped before he was crawling onto the bed, too. “Turn around, Hajime,” he commanded, to which Hajime quickly obeyed. “Ass up, face in the pillows,” he purred in approval at Hajime’s obedience. Hajime listened to that too. Then there was Tooru’s strong grip on his hips, holding him in place. His body shook with anticipation as Tooru ran a thumb across the smooth surface of Hajime’s ass. “No touching yourself, okay?”

Hajime’s head shot up, opening his mouth to protest, but Tooru’s sharp look gave him pause. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, Hajime?” 

Hajime pouted. He knew how Tooru was, and he was going to make it nearly impossible for Hajime  not to want to touch himself. Tooru chuckled at the expression, hands kneading Hajime’s cheeks. “Come on, Iwachan. I won’t make you wait too long this time.“ Hajime raised a disbelieving brow at him. Tooru leaned down stealing a kiss off of Hajime’s mouth, pulling away just enough to speak. “Just need to show Hajime why he shouldn’t insult this pretty mouth of mine, hm? Then I’ll give you what you want.” He nipped at Hajime’s lips. “Promise.”

Hajime sighed against Tooru’s lips, as if it was the most painstaking thing to concede to him, which, in any other sense, would be. But he had never been good at disobeying Tooru in the bedroom. The praise was just worth more than his pride. Tooru grinned, knowing he had won as Hajime moved his arms under the pillows, and pulled away. He left a trail of kisses along the surface of Hajime’s strong back as he receded to the other’s ass once again. 

Hajime braced himself as he felt Tooru‘s thumbs digging into his skin, exposing his hole. He couldn’t see, but he could feel the weight of Tooru’s piercing stare as he admired Hajime bare and open beneath him, all for him. There was no warning as the wet heat of Tooru’s tongue pressed against Hajime, teasing around the rim before pushing in. Hajime moaned into the pillows below him, burying his face into the soft, fluffy material. Soon, Tooru’s tongue was making quick, precise strokes, alternating between deep dives and quick, teasing darts along Hajime’s rim. 

It was filthy and crude, between the lewd sounds made by Tooru as he feasted upon Hajime, and the obscene noises leaving Hajime’s throat, mixed with broken versions of Tooru’s name.

The sheets were clenched in Hajime’s fists, body quivering with the need to rock into Tooru but unable to thanks to the strong grip he had on Hajime. 

Hajime was breathless, toes curled and the ache between his legs desperate for some friction. “ Tooru ,” he gasped when it was too much to handle anymore.

Tooru pulled away, licking his lips, which were bright red and shining with excess saliva. “Hm, yes Hajime?” He teased in a purring tone, admiring the way he had indeed made the other hot and sweaty. “Is something wrong?” 

Hajime whimpered, at the taunt and lack of pressure against or inside him. “ Please .”

“Please what, Hajime?” Tooru asked, unconcerned while his fingers played with the wet mess he had made of the dip between the other’s ass.

“ Want you, ” Hajime panted. “Want you inside me.”

“Hm, you do?” Tooru hummed, an arrogant little smile playing at his lips that definitely would have earned him an irritated smack if they weren’t in such a filthy situation. “Then do you have anything to say?”

“Besides hurry up? No.” Hajime liked praise, but no one said anything about being very good at earning it.

“Rather cocky of you to say in your position,” Tooru mused. His fingers teased at Hajime’s rim, not quite pressing in, but with a firm enough touch that Hajime was trying and failing to push back onto them. “All you have to do is take back what you said about a certain mouth that’s been eating you out, then I’m all yours.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Because, well, he hadn’t been lying and he was prideful as hell. Tooru’s mouth could be insufferable, like right now, when it was talking instead of giving him what he wanted. 

Tooru shrugged, not tearing his focus away from teasing Hajime, enough so that he knew he was breaking the other’s resolve, stroke by stroke. “Then I guess someone’s not getting any dick today.”

Hajime groaned, face falling into the pillows. 

Tooru listened closely as Hajime muttered something, purposefully muffled. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Hajime’s face shot up again and he glared as he begrudgingly snapped, “I  said , I guess your mouth isn’t so bad... and... has its merits...”

Tooru cocked an expectant brow.

“More than sometimes.” 

He only raised his brow higher. 

Hajime glanced away, grumbling. “ Most of the time.”

Tooru snorted, deciding it was good enough. “Up then,” he commanded.

Hajime raised an eyebrow, but Tooru just made a beckoning motion with his hand. “On your knees.”

“I  am on my knees.” Which was a miracle, considering how weak they felt.

“ Only your knees, Hajime,” Tooru sassed right back.

Deciding that he was done being a mouthy brat and that sating the ache both inside him and between his legs was more beneficial, Hajime moved his arms beneath him and pushed up in one smooth motion. Tooru made a sound of surprised approval, leaning over to grab a bottle of lube they stored in each bedside table, for whichever side they may be closest to on any given session. 

He wasted no time in uncapping the bottle and slathering his fingers in the cool, slick substance. He closed the distance between himself and Hajime from behind, earning a gasp as he pushed two fingers in at once with no warning. He placed his mouth against Hajime’s neck, biting down in some places and sucking in others, leaving bruising hickeys in his wake. Hajime rocked down onto Tooru’s fingers, the two creating a rhythm to match each other. 

Tooru’s fingers curled expertly when he buried himself deep enough, exactly where he knew that bundle of nerves was inside Hajime. He earned himself a low moan ripped from the other’s throat and stuttered hips. Hajime’s face twisted beautifully in pleasure as Tooru continued to deliberately brush against his prostate. 

When pushed a third finger in, and Hajime’s head fell back, exposing more of his neck to Tooru, who took full advantage and assaulted the golden skin with a new kind of vigor.

It was too much for Hajime, with Tooru buried three fingers deep, scissoring and stretching him out, his sinful mouth traveling all along his skin, and his other hand dancing teasingly along Hajime’s thighs but never touching him where it ached to be touched. He knew he was stretched enough too, and at this point Tooru was just being a little shit. His hands were only saved from the urge to touch himself by being buried in the soft waves of Tooru’s hair. Still, if this went on for too much longer, he was going to break Tooru’s stupid little rule. 

As if reading his inner temptations, Tooru praised, “You’re doing so good for me, Hajime.” His kiss to Hajime’s jaw was sweet and of the rewarding kind. “What do you say about topping?”

“Huh?” Hajime sighed, delayed and slow from the haze in his head.

“Mmm, yes. I want you to ride me. Is that okay with you?”

Hajime’s breath hitched as his mind comprehended  that . “Really?” They had just tried the position for the first time the other night, and Hajime could easily say it was one of his favorites. There was just something arousing in the way it seemed like he was the one in control, but really, with his hands on Hajime’s hips to guide him, it was Tooru calling the shots.

“Yes.” Tooru’s nose grazed Hajime’s neck, ghosting along the purple marks that dotted along the surface, some ripe from the past few days, some fading, and others newly forming from today. “You’re so stunning on top of me, face scrunched up in pleasure while you ride me. I know you like it, too—“

“Okay,” Hajime agreed readily.

Tooru chuckled at his eagerness, guiding them towards the head of the bed. He slid his fingers out from inside Hajime, earning a small whine of protest. He pulled Hajime into his lap after settling against the pillows, reaching around for the abandoned bottle of lube. Upon procuring it, he made Hajime watch as he lubed himself up, an involuntary moan escaping as his disregarded cock was finally touched. 

Unable to bear the temptation, Hajime said fuck it in his head, diving in and claiming Tooru’s mouth with his own. Tooru immediately pushed him away by the fingers that had just been inside Hajime pressed against his lips. 

“Hajime got me all messy, he should clean that up.” 

The suggestion alone shot a new kind of heat between Hajime’s legs, and, maintaining eye contact, Hajime easily sucked Tooru’s fingers into his mouth. Tooru chuckled, taking Hajime’s hip by his clean hand and guiding him over so they could align. Hajime moaned around Tooru’s fingers when he was lead down, the length of Tooru filling him and pressing wonderfully against his walls.

“Move when you’re ready, Hajime,” Tooru sang, wiggling the fingers that were inside the other’s mouth. 

Hajime made a sound of affirmation, ready _now_ , rising along Tooru’s length fully before sinking back down. The first few bobs were slow, dragging, almost tortuously so, but once he had adjusted properly, Hajime set a faster pace that was desirable for both of them. He didn’t forget about the fingers in his mouth, tongue dutifully flicking against them and sliding around them, between them, sucking them as Tooru played around, pulling them out partly and making Hajime chase them. His moans escaped around them, along with some saliva that Tooru gleefully let run down his hand and wrist. 

Tooru’s moans mixed with Hajime’s as he thrusted up into him, matching the roll of his hips with his own. He fully retracted his fingers from Hajime’s mouth when the other’s rhythm began to speed up, clearly chasing a looming climax, wrapping them around Hajime’s length flush between them. He dipped his thumb in Hajime’s leaking slit, spreading the precum and mixing it with Hajime’s spit, creating a slippery mess that he used to stroke Hajime, catalyzing the mounding pressure deep in Hajime’s core. Hajime jerked in Tooru’s strokes, gasping and choking on moans, repeating in a rush multiple  _Tooru_ ’s, some more broken than others. 

“That’s it, you’re doing amazing, Hajime,” Tooru encouraged. He gripped his face with his free hand and closed the distance between them, biting down on Hajime’s bottom lip. “You’ve got this, keep going.” He stroked harder, faster, as Hajime threw his head back, face contorting as that pressure at his core kept building. 

“‘M-m close,” he managed out, biting his lip.

“That’s it,” Tooru continued to encourage, “Come for me, Hajime. You look so pretty when you do.”

And that’s what did Hajime in. His release rushed through him in a flash of blinding white pleasure, shooting out and spilling all over Tooru in a filthy, sticky mess. Tooru claimed his mouth, swallowing his cry. Hajime hadn’t even recovered from his release before Tooru was doing the same, having reached his limit with the way Hajime’s hips stuttered and he clenched around Tooru. 

They were both breathing heavily as they pulled apart but not yet separating. Hajime had a blissful smile on his face, cheeks flushed with afterglow, hair sticking to his hair and neck from sweat. Tooru’s gaze raked over him in hungry wonder, astonished at how Hajime could be so gorgeous. He smiled too, more in amusement as he fingered a few strands of Hajime’s hair. “I guess you need another shower.”

Hajime snorted, finding the will to pull off of Tooru. “Yeah, whose fault is that?”

Tooru sat up straight, grinning at Hajime as the latter took one of his towels that had been abandoned and wiped them both down. “Are you trying to say you didn’t play an equal part in that, Iwachan?”

“Of course not, stupid, but you totally started it,” Hajime replied, standing up and already heading towards the bathroom to clean himself off for the second time that day.

“And you finished it!” Tooru snickered after him from the bed, where he made no move to follow, earning a vulgar finger sent his way. Tooru just laughed more. 

* * *

Tooru hummed to himself, a content smile was on his face as he leaned against the mountain of pillows behind him, Hajime wrapped around his torso and dozing after they had both taken showers.

Tooru felt great. He didn’t have to be anywhere until later tonight for the fashion show, he just had amazing sex with Hajime, things with him were going great in general and...

_Ding._

Tooru’s smile widened at the new notification on his phone. Yuma was beginning to fall into his trap. When he spoke to Takahiro before leaving, Yuma had only begun to like his posts, few and far between. Now every few days it was every post made on a specific day. He went to the post Yuma had liked this time around, finding it to be one of Grand Jardin he had posted just hours before. Just as he was ready to close out of the app, another notification dinged. Tooru rose his eyebrows. This time, it was a comment from Yuma. That was new.

Curiously, Tooru followed it, eyes reading over the kanji quickly. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple,  _Paris is always so beautiful_. Still, it was something, and the plan was moving forward. 

He decided to leave the comment, let it sit without a response or a like to indicate he even saw it. After, he shut off his phone, placing it back down to charge. Tooru’s smile widened as he stretched his arms out behind him and sunk down into the pillows, careful not to disturb Hajime, his own eyes closing for a little nap in the warmth of the sun pouring in through the many large crystal glass windows of their suite. Things were going perfectly.

* * *

Takahiro couldn’t take it any longer. Hajime didn’t deserve to be used like he was, especially when he looked at Tooru so fondly, smiled so freely, looked so  _happy_ to be with him. The guilt really hit as he saw the endless updates from Tooru of their trip in Paris on social media. There were many of the typical posts, with snapshots of dates and places the two were visiting. But then there had been that one. It was a candid of Hajime, asleep and clearly blissed out after an eventful afternoon with Tooru. It tore at Takahiro’s conscious, and even if Hajime wasn’t Issei’s best friend, because he knew Hajime’s pain would be Issei’s, Takahiro would still feel like absolute shit, watching everything happen and not doing a damn thing about it.

He called Tooru himself and tried to pressure him to tell Hajime, had the others do the same, even got Tooru’s older sister, Katsumi, involved, but the fashion designer would not be reasoned with. He just continued with the frequent posts, no doubt spoiling Hajime with gifts and affection that Hajime soaked in like a sponge.

Takahiro was sick of it. Sick of the lying and deception and leading Hajime closer to devastating heartbreak. So Takahiro sent Hajime a text the day before he was due to return to Japan, telling him he needed to talk to him, without Tooru, as soon as possible. Curiously, Hajime agreed and said he would send Tooru off after they landed since the designer had some things he needed to sort out at Grand King anyway, and he and Takahiro could talk at his place.

When the day came, Tooru left with a peck to Hajime’s cheek in front of the airport, promising to come visit that night. After, Hajime returned to his apartment, surprised to find Issei and Takahiro inside, the former no doubt having let them in with his spare key.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Hajime inquired as he set his things down to put away later,

approaching and sitting down on the vacant couch, Issei and Takahiro occupying two adjacent chairs. 

Takahiro bit his lip, glancing nervously to Issei, then back to Hajime. They were watching him expectantly and patiently, curious at his anxious fidgeting, and he was really starting to hate himself for waiting so long to say anything, especially with the way Hajime seemed to glow, a result of spending an entire romantic getaway in Paris with Tooru.

“Babe?” Issei prompted gently when Takahiro hadn’t said anything, only glared at his hands.

Takahiro’s face instantly relaxed when he realized it had become so tense. He sighed, the sound of his heart a beat in his ears. He forced himself to look at Hajime, told himself how crucial it was for Hajime to know. It wasn’t right to go on and let the disaster just waiting to happen to occur. 

Steeling himself, Takahiro said tentatively, “Iwaizumi... Oikawa’s just using you to get back with his ex.”

“What.” Was the immediate thing the other man blurted.

It was almost palpable, the shock that went through his friend and boyfriend, like a rock dropped into the smooth surface of water, disturbing it with a sudden splash.

Takahiro ran a hand through his hair. “Oikawa... I... Fuck.” Takahiro rubbed his face, huffing in frustration. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, could practically see the way Hajime’s heart was beginning to break, splintering cracks of sudden fear growing and spreading, with only the glue of doubt, confusion, and desperate hope to hold him together, and it was all made worse with the way Hajime trusted Takahiro and possessed the patience of a saint, letting Takahiro collect himself so he could properly explain, as if Takahiro was the one his news affected in a devastating way. It just wasn’t fair, Hajime didn’t deserve this.

But he did deserve an explanation, and damn it Takahiro was going to give him that much. So he did. Taking another bracing breath, he unloaded all of it.

“Oikawa had been in a long term relationship with this guy, his name’s Nakajima Yuma. He’s the heir to a wealthy tech company and extremely pompous about it. He’s a piece of shit, in every possible way, honestly, but for whatever reason he and Oikawa dated for five years. They had actually met during the party for Oikawa’s debut as Grand King’s next big designer and heir to the company. We all thought Nakajima was pretty sketchy, but Oikawa still dated him. He actually didn’t treat Oikawa badly, wasn’t anywhere near an ideal boyfriend but wasn’t a bad one either, so we really couldn’t anything against him.”

“Then one day he said things weren’t working out and that he just didn’t feel the same, which doesn’t make sense considering they were fine, always seeing each other at least once a day, but yeah, the bastard just left him. We weren’t too upset to see him go, but Tooru didn’t take the break up well.”

“To make matters worse, Nakajima started dating this other guy not two weeks later. Personally, I’m pretty sure there was an affair going on there, but like hell I’m saying that to Oikawa, and I think part of him knew. Anyways, Oikawa was  _pissed_ that Nakajima moved on so fast. He wanted a way to get back at him but couldn’t find one.” Takahiro looked up at Hajime, made painful eye contact. “And then he met you.”

“That first night was just supposed to be a one night stand. Oikawa had genuinely just been looking for a quick fuck, but he saw something in you and for some reason came up with this stupid plan. So now he’s using you to look like he’s in a happy and committed relationship to make Nakajima jealous so he’ll come crawling back to him. After he’s made Nakajima beg, he’ll take him back... and you... he’ll get rid of you.”

Issei jumped to his feet, and oh, was he _livid_ . “I’m going to kill. I’m actually going to wrap my own hands around his stupid neck and fucking kill him.”

Hajime was having quite the opposite reaction from his friend. While Issei burned with fiery rage, itfelt like cold water splashed over Hajime and like he was seeing everything clearly for the first time. Suddenly, everything made too much sense. Why Tooru’s love (could it even be called that?) was so aggressive, yet it always felt like he was being held at arm’s length. Why Tooru hadn’t wanted their friend groups to meet in the beginning, because he didn’t want people to mingle and get attached when he split from Hajime, why he made such a show of them being close and couple-y in public places but seemed to take step back in private. Why their relationship had felt so superficial sometimes. Because it was. The only thing that was real most likely, was the sex. It was almost laughable how that was all Hajime had wanted before, but now it was the worst feeling in the world to know that was all that was genuine in their relationship.

It was also funny, that Hajime accepted Takahiro’s words without question, that he could so easily believe his outlandish accusations. Yet, maybe a part of Hajime had known, deep down, that something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the way Takahiro was genuinely choked up and looked so guilty and shameful of everything, because he had known and hadn’t said a word. Either way, there was something in Hajime’s core that told him, this was the certifiable truth.

While Hajime tried to wrap his head around the blow he’d just been dealt, Issei paced the room angrily, listing in vivid detail every painful and tortuous way he was going to remove one Oikawa Tooru from the world. 

“Matsukawa, sit down. You’re not going to do anything,” Hajime finally told him once he’d been able to think again, standing himself.

Issei whirled, eyes blazing. “I’m going to do many things, and the others are going to be right there with me. Once you break up with that piece of shit—“

“The others aren’t going to know, and I’m not breaking up with him.”

Takahiro didn’t think he’d ever seen such rage as he had in Issei at that moment. “What the  _hell_ —“ Issei snapped, only for Hajime to interrupt far too calmly,

“You know how Tsukiko and Miyoko are. They don’t need to know.”

“Yes! I do know how they are! Which is why they should be told so we can pummel that little pompous bastard!”

Takahiro couldn’t even argue or defend Tooru at this point. He had dug himself a grave by doing something so stupid and cruel, and protective, angry Issei was not a force to be reckoned with. From what he’s heard about what a vengeful demon Tsukiko could be, added with Miyoko, and then the nature of Kotarou and Keiji’s terrifying and cold capabilities, Tooru’s actions with Hajime would not be taking lightly, and these weren’t even all his friends, only his closest. And then there was Issei, who really did look two seconds away from murder. 

“And if I don’t want you to pummel him? Did you not hear me say I’m not breaking up with him?”

“Why  _not_ , Iwaizumi?!” Issei hissed. “Why are you staying with him if he’s just using you?!”

Hajime closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Exhaled. When he opened them again, it was with a small smile. “Because I love him.”

Takahiro made a pained choking sound that thankfully either wasn’t heard or ignored.

“And if he’s just using me until his ex comes back... then I’ll take what I can get. It hurts, of course, but I‘ve been through this before. I’ll do it again and love Tooru with all I’ve got until he doesn’t need me anymore.”

Pain flickered across Issei’s face, seemingly going to war with his rage. “Iwaizumi...” His voice was softer than Takahiro expected it to be, and he suddenly felt like he was intruding on something. “Don’t. Don’t do this to yourself. You didn’t know the first time. Stop this before you get hurt, please.”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Hajime shrugged, bittersweet smile still on his face, and while he was putting on a good bravado, his heart was beating fast, as if it was trying to run and escape the inevitable break, yet it had nowhere to go.

Takahiro frowned, eyebrows pinching together. “It might not be my place to ask, but, what do you mean the first time?”

By now Hajime had made his way towards the door. He looked at Issei. “Tell him for me, please? I need to go for a walk.”

Neither stopped him as he slipped on his shoes then out of the apartment, the click of the door far too loud in the couple’s ears.

Takahiro looked nervously to Issei. He wasn’t wary of his boyfriend, rather much more of what tragedy he would hear. Issei fell into a chair, sighing and running a hand through his curls, cursing in frustration, eyes hard as he dealt with the sudden helplessness of being allowed to do nothing but stand by and witness as his loved ones crashed and burned. 

Takahiro waited in patient understanding, and after a moment of collecting himself, Issei’s eyes met Takahiro’s, smiling without mirth. 

“His name was Kaeda Hayate. He was in the year above us and Iwaizumi‘s crush on Kaeda started in first year. Iwaizumi was a popular dude, really athletic, so sports clubs were always trying to recruit him. He played with them during lunch occasionally, and Kaeda was on the baseball team. They became good acquaintances, though Iwaizumi never said anything about his crush, scared it was one-sided and didn’t want to make things weird.” Issei shrugged, though it was anything but casual. “And then Kaeda asked Iwaizumi out in the middle of second year.”

“They were a cute couple, I suppose. Contrary to his appearances, Iwaizumi’s actually a pretty softhearted guy, loves to be doted on and sometimes has his clingy moments. Kaeda took care of Iwaizumi, waited for him after practice, came to his class for lunch, all of that cliche stuff. They were that gross and domestic couple, always holding hands and hugging and having stupid grins on their faces around each other. Iwaizumi was really happy.”

“And then they slept together. It was Iwaizumi’s first time, but not Kaeda’s. Iwaizumi was waiting for something special, because believe it or not he was a bit of a hopeless romantic. It was a mystery to many, how he could be so attractive and nice to everyone, actually he was quite the heartthrob and dated a lot of people because he wanted to give them a chance, but he never touched anyone. Again, he was a romantic and more concerned on his studies and sports, anyway. But Kaeda goaded him into it, and Iwaizumi was so hopelessly in love he thought Kaeda was the one.”

Issei’s eyes turned icy and his tone took a dangerous octave. “Kaeda broke up with Iwaizumi the next day. Told him he had only dated Iwaizumi for a bet, to see how long it would take to get Iwaizumi, who was such a model student, to let Kaeda, who he had an adorable little crush on, corrupt him.” Takahiro cursed. He was glad he was already sitting, otherwise he was sure his legs would’ve buckled and he’d collapse into the chair.

Issei clenched his fists, face scrunching in the anger that resurfaced at the memory of how his best friend had been treated, how badly he had been hurt. “Iwaizumi was a mess after that. It was terrible, seeing him so heartbroken. You know him. He’s a great guy with a huge heart, and he didn’t deserve that shit. It was only because of his vigilance and will that he kept going, kept making top marks and performed as well as he could in volleyball. On the outside, he looked perfectly fine, as put together as he usually did, but most nights he spent in pain and tears. I stayed at his house or dragged him to mine so he wouldn’t be alone. He knew his parents would go apeshit if they heard how he had been treated, so he refused to tell them. They knew something was wrong, though, the Iwaizumi family is close like that. They tried to ask me but out of respect for Iwaizumi I didn’t tell them, but they knew I was helping so they let me drag him around as I saw fit.”

“Eventually Tsukiko and Miyoko found out.” Issei gave a satisfied little grin. “Akaashi had just joined our little crew then, too. And put the three of them together... I’m pretty sure Kaeda still hasn’t recovered from the damage they did to him.”

A justifiable shiver went through Takahiro at what that could possibly entail, and he knew whatever “damage” they had done wasn’t the physical kind. Part of him was curious to know. But also, “What do you mean they eventually found out? Haven’t you guys been friends since childhood?”

Issei nodded. “Yeah, but that’s because our parents were friends. We actually went to different schools, but we lived close enough that Tsukiko and Miyoko babysat Iwaizumi and I a lot along with Bokuto, which is how we’re all friends. Akaashi was a year below Bokuto and they met through volleyball.”

“Ah,” Takahiro nodded. “So what happened after they got to Kaeda?”

“After that, Iwaizumi swore off romance and turned to just having one night stands so he would never get attached again. He tried dating here and there, but he never felt anything deeper for his partners,” Issei explained. He sighed and shrugged. “And then, somehow, he got wrapped up in Oikawa, and here we are.”

“Fuck,” Takahiro said and stood, pacing back and forth. “I knew Oikawa fucked up, but shit.” 

Issei hummed in agreement, taking a drink from his glass on the table as he followed his boyfriend’s movements. He’d calmed down after talking things out, even if he was still pissed at Oikawa. Takahiro whipped out his phone. “I don’t care what he’s doing, I’m going to—“

“Don’t.”

Takahiro’s thumb paused over Oikawa’s contact as he looked incredulously at his boyfriend. “Huh?”

“Don’t confront him about it,” Issei repeated. “Iwaizumi doesn’t want any of the others knowing because he wants things to be the same, and they’re terrible at being passive aggressive. He’s terrified of Oikawa leaving him, and while he knows it’s going to happen inevitably, he’d prefer it didn’t happen prematurely. That means he doesn’t want Oikawa to know that he knows, just in case it scares Oikawa into leaving him before his plan is finished.”

Takahiro frowned, plopping down next to Issei. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” A solemn silence fell between them. 

* * *

It was cruel, Hajime thought to himself as he walked down the street, thankful for the mindless busyness of the people around him. No one paid attention to him as he passed, left to his own devices and turmoil, surrounded but still alone. His heart ached, and the burn of tears threatened to slip down his cheeks. None fell though, as much as he wished they would. Maybe this would hurt less if they did.

He should have known better. He swore off romance and dating for a reason. The fact that none of his attempts at relationships after Kaeda worked should have been a sign that love wasn’t something for him. And yet, there had been Tooru.

Tooru, who looked like an angel and left Hajime unknowing of what he would do when the day came where he woke up without him. Tooru, who, whenever he kissed Hajime, didn’t give two fucks. And Hajime, who never fell first, who thought he could be single forever, he had fallen for Tooru’s savage love, and he would continue to let Tooru use him, because even if Tooru was only loving him to get back at his ex lover, Hajime still wanted that. 

* * *

That night, when Tooru came to his apartment and they fell into Hajime’s bed in a tangle of limbs and mouths, he could only hope that Tooru didn’t detect the bit of desperation in his bruising touches, the underlying pleas when he moaned his name, all of it begging Tooru to stay.

* * *

Tooru was too easy to love. He was high maintenance, sure, but he was still human. Hajime knew it because sometimes he was blessed with the privileged of seeing beneath Tooru’s multiple layers of poised perfection, like on Tooru’s lazy days, when he shed his pristine fashionable outfits in lieu of grey sweatpants and chose not to brush his hair and simply let loose. Sometimes he wore glasses, which Hajime learned he hadn’t needed at first, but wore anyway because he ended up buying a pair as a teenager to avoid being caught eavesdropping, until eventually he did start actually needing them from long nights staring at his work in the dark. Hajime thought the origins of the glasses were pretty funny, and another testament to just how normal Tooru was.

Hajime, despite everyone doubting how it could be so, was always being reminded of this. How Tooru wasn’t perfect, had emotions too, made mistakes and had his fears and dreams and everything that made someone human. He knew Tooru tried to hide his deepest self, but parts of who he truly was always managed to sneak through his carefully constructed facade, at least to Hajime, who not only was a people-intelligent person, but also spent enough of time with Tooru, despite the synthetic nature of their relationship, to be able to note the little tricks and tells.

Like when they were getting ready to go out together.

When Tooru came back from Paris, he started inviting Hajime to more public or fancy events. He didn’t give an explanation as to why, and Hajime chose not to question.

Tonight was a charity event. Personally, Tooru hated them, said they were often full of pompous rich elitists who weren’t actually raising money for anything but themselves, but just called it a charity event to look good for publicity. And it’s not like the public knew any better, they weren’t allowed in.

Nonetheless, once again, Tooru was going instead of Irihata, and as much as Tooru liked and looked up to his boss and mentor, he was beginning to think the man was just sending him to these events so he himself wouldn’t have to deal with all the people. 

Hajime laughed while Tooru lamented all of this, the latter walking back and forth from his bedroom and walk-in closet. 

He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie when Tooru came back into the room again, carrying dozens of different pairs of earrings. “Okay, Iwachan, which pair?”

Hajime frowned, turning around. For whatever reason, Tooru started asking, more like hounding, Hajime for his opinion on every little aspect of his outfits whenever they attended events like the one they were heading to tonight. Just minutes before, Hajime had to convince Tooru to wear what he wanted after the latter made him choose between a dark teal suit and royal purple one. They both looked great on Tooru, and personally Hajime didn’t care because he knew Tooru would pull off anything. (Tooru chose the teal one, and he really did look stunning in it.)

“Oikawa, how many times do I have to tell you? Just wear whatever you think is best.”

Tooru stopped examining the plethora of dangly earrings to shoot Hajime his own frown. “What if Iwachan doesn’t like it, though?”

Hajime’s brows pinched together, and he walked over to Tooru. “I’ll like whatever you pick. You’re the fashion designer here, and personally I think you’d steal the show even in just some ratty old sweats, because you’re annoyingly attractive like that.” He stopped in front of Tooru, taking the several pairs of earrings and lying them out on the dresser. “Now which one do you like best?”

He didn’t get an answer. Hajime turned to find Tooru blinking at him, opening and closing his mouth, apparently at a loss for words. Hajime raised his brows, waiting for the other to collect himself.

Only, in the next few seconds, Tooru’s face turned bright red and he huffed, hiding his face as he cried, “Iwachan! You can’t just say things like that!”

Hajime gave him an incredulous look. “What, the truth?”

“Stop that!” Tooru pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You’re not allowed to be smooth like this! How will my heart survive?”

Hajime snorted. “I think you’ll live.”

He tried to ignore the way his heart ached, because this all felt so real, especially when Tooru said things like that, and he hated that he knew it wasn’t. He nudged Tooru towards the dresser. “Seriously, pick a pair. We’re going to be late if you don’t make up your mind.”

“Being fashionably late is expected of a fashion icon,” Tooru waved a hand as he focused on the earrings, then frowned. “Are you sure there’s not a pair you’d prefer?”

This time Hajime smacked Tooru across the head, unable to resist. “Dumbass, it’s your body and outfit, why does my opinion matter so much?”

Tooru opened his mouth to answer, paused, and closed it, unable to provide one. It was comical, how often Hajime left him in the state of a gaping fish.

Hajime frowned. He didn’t like the way Tooru was always so hung up on always making sure Hajime approved his outfit. The gesture itself was small, but it said volumes about what Tooru’s prior relationship that he was currently trying to get back into could have possibly been like, made Hajime question the nature of the rest of that relationship especially considering Takahiro’s words from that night, but Hajime also knew it was Too Personal For A Fake Relationship territory and that Tooru wouldn’t supply him with an explanation, so he didn’t pry.

He sighed when Tooru still didn’t make a move to pick a pair of earrings and turned to look at them as well. He focused in on a pair that Tooru had expressed he hated and furrowed his eyebrows together. They were gold, and Tooru preferred silver jewelry, and from spending enough time with the fashion designer, he knew they didn’t go with Tooru’s outfit, in practical style or Tooru’s personal taste. “Why did you bring these out when you know don’t like them?” 

Tooru only spared them a glance before he was answering. “Those were what Yuma-chan always wanted me to—“ He cut off abruptly with a snap of his mouth shut.

Hajime rose his eyebrows in question, saying nothing. He let Tooru decipher what he was asking, hoping the other took it as a question as to who ‘Yuma-chan’ was and not the surprise of hearing Tooru bring up his ex. 

“Ah...” Tooru trailed off, and his hesitancy told Hajime all he needed to know and had already guessed; Tooru didn’t want him to know. “Yuma-chan was an old ex of mine,” he explained, drilling Hajime’s conclusion into concrete. Tooru plucked up the gold earrings and tossed them on the bed. “He just really liked those a lot and preferred that I wear them whenever we went out. Ah! I’ll wear these!” He picked up another pair of earrings, silver this time, before disappearing back into his closet.

Hajime was left staring after the gold jewelry, a glaring reminder that he was on borrowed time. He was right then, in some ways, Yuma had been a controlling type. Not in obvious ways that would have alarmed Tooru or his friends, Hajime knew that Takahiro and the others wouldn’t have allowed Tooru to stay in a dangerously toxic relationship, and he knew that Tooru was too smart and headstrong to stay in a relationship that was blatantly unhealthy, but it had been the subtle kind of controlling. Yuma probably chose the little things, the smallest details that most wouldn’t bat an eye at and criticized them harshly. And, something told Hajime that Yuma probably knew of Tooru’s insecurities, and had stepped on just the right mines to bend the brunette to his influence. 

Hajime couldn’t say any of this, though. All he could do was enjoy what he had while he had it, and cherish his time with Tooru for all that he was allowed. He smiled when Tooru came out to show the finished product. In his fitted dark teal suit with a dark tie that could be several different colors ranging from dark grey to a degree of purple, silver dangle and mini-hoop earrings sparkling and the natural soft brown waves of his hair, Tooru looked handsome, stunningly so, not that Hajime was surprised. 

He held out an arm, and Tooru took it, blabbering excitedly about how handsome he and Iwachan looked, how they were going to be the best dressed of the night. Hajime personally disagreed, he was wearing only a simple black suit. It wasn’t that he didn’t look handsome, but he definitely looked bland compared to Tooru. Still, he was happy that Tooru thought otherwise. His looks, at least, Hajime could be confident, held Tooru’s genuine interests.

* * *

As Tooru had said, the charity event wasn’t anything extravagant. Well, it was, in the way that rich people liked to flaunt money, but by Hajime’s humble standards, it hadn’t impressed him.

Everything was shiny, because all nice things simply had to be, crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the tall, vaulted ceiling of the banquet hall the event was being held in, tall glass windows shined to perfect transparency, expensive decor everywhere. In addition to an outrageous dinner, there was a boastful buffet to one side of the hall, full of fancy little hand snacks and a plentiful of food that Hajime had no doubt would be wasted by the end of the night. Part of him wondered what would happen if he invited his friends to crash the place.  _They_ would certainly be having free reign over the free food, leaving the patrons determined on appearing skimpy and refined, scandalized. Tooru had sent him a curious look when Hajime chuckled aloud at the idea, but Hajime waved him off, saying it was nothing. Tooru shrugged and continued his snark competition with one of the pristinely dressed ladies, an heir to a manufacturing empire, who apparently had a bone to pick with Tooru for inheriting Grand King when he wasn’t related to Irihata, calling illegitimacy on the exchange, but not outright, of course. 

The hierarchies and politics of these people eluded Hajime, but watching Tooru during his verbal battle was entertaining, and even more so was the way he slowly and effectively humiliated his opponent, with his silver tongue and terrifying possession of knowledge he shouldn’t have. She ended up slinking away, metaphorical tail tucked between her legs.

That had been the most eventful occurrence of the evening. After speeches and a toast, there was a period of time before the auctions would begin. Tooru told him the reason for this was to force socializing and allow deals to be made, often the dirty kind, before the auction, where profits could be maximized. Hajime had frowned and asked him why even bother with events like these, to which Tooru shrugged and replied that it was a good way to keep a favorable social standing and that there were legitimate charity events, this one just wasn’t one of them.

After that, Tooru had become glued to his phone. Hajime noticed that along with the increased invites to public events since Tooru’s return from Paris, he had also become increasingly invested in his phone, like there was something, or someone, waiting for him to invest his time in.

He didn’t neglect Hajime, though. If there was something Tooru was not, it was a bad boyfriend. Real or fake, Tooru was the kind who poured his all into his relationships. He never failed to put his phone down to give Hajime his full attention, was always perceptive to what he needed or wanted without the other even saying so. He paid attention to every detail of his partner, made sure they felt special and cared for. Hajime was no exception, and it hurt, because he knew it was all just a means to an end. That none of it was real.

At some point during the period for mingling, Tooru excused himself from Hajime, saying there were some people he needed to talk to. Hajime waved him off, telling him he’d be okay. Tooru smiled brightly at him and sauntered off, promising to be back soon.

Hajime’s dismissal had been a lie, of course. How could he be okay, with his thoughts running wild as they were? He wasn’t an insecure person, he felt more than comfortable in his own skin. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly inadequate here. Not in the general setting, he really couldn’t care less about the wealthy and their esteemed opinions, but with Tooru, that was where his problem lie. 

He felt like he didn’t belong here, like he couldn’t compare. Tooru belonged with these people, a renowned and talented fashion designer who had an ambition hungry enough to devour the world, who could conquer and rule the world, if he so desired. He had friends and connections all over. His tastes were just as expensive as those currently around them. Hajime was just a humble physical therapist who loved to help others and enjoyed quality time with his handful friends. He had no idea how to play in high society’s playground, where Tooru so obviously shined.

Honestly, Hajime had been amazed Tooru stuck by his side as long as he did, that he didn’t wander off to mingle with people more like him, who could keep up with him. It was no wonder he wanted someone like Yuma: wealthy, handsome, part of society’s elite, far superior to Hajime in the ways that mattered for Tooru’s heart. Tooru had probably gotten sick of Hajime and needed a break, so he’d gone off to go talk to some other friends who would be able to keep up with him. He was probably ready to be rid of Hajime entirely, honestly.

Hajime had committed himself to these depreciating thoughts, so imagine his surprise when Tooru returns in the manner that he does.

A young bachelor had approached Hajime upon finding him all alone. He had stopped to converse with him, smiling charmingly and asking what business or family empire he was representing. Hajime had awkwardly informed him that he was just a plus one. A finely groomed brow had raised at that as he commented that Hajime was too handsome to be  _only_ a plus one. And then he had placed a hand on Hajime’s arm, asking him what he did, if not use his devilishly handsome looks to his advantage in the business world.

Hajime was a loyal man, but he could recognize when an attractive person was flirting with him and promptly turned red and stammered, eyes darting down to the hand on his arm and back to the deep brown of the other’s eyes. (He vaguely noted that they were  too dark, and not the pretty light brown that shone in certain lighting or when excited that he had come to love.) He felt incredibly uncomfortable, but he also didn’t want to be rude, and had no idea how to get himself out of this situation.

Thus, Hajime was stuck entertaining the man who he had no doubt was some kind of influential heir, telling him that he was a physical therapist. His eyes had brightened and he leaned in, asking why he had chose that profession. Hajime explained to him his desire to help people heal, and the other had instantly swooned, saying men with big hearts were so hard to come by, and so very charming. 

Hajime laughed nervously, looking around for any outlet to get himself out of the situation, when there was a lilted “ _Iwachan_ !” that cut into the air.

Hajime stiffened, because that was no regular cheery greeting meant to annoy and tease. It sounded like there was a dangerous edge to Tooru’s tone, but before he could turn, suddenly there were strong arms thrown around him, a firm grip turning his head, and a big, claiming kiss pressed against his lips. 

Hajime blinked in surprise as Tooru pulled away, the latter smiling big and wide, but it was so clearly fake. “I was starting to miss my Iwachan. Are you doing okay?” He asked sweetly, turning towards the third party that had been neglected until then. His smile tightened, and his eyes turned icy and threatening. “Nishida-kun.”

The air felt chilly all of a sudden as Nishida leveled an unimpressed look back at Tooru. “Oikawa-san.” 

No one moved or said anything, and Hajime squirmed uncomfortably. He didn’t know what the hell was going on. 

Tooru gave the man an appraising once over. “I’m surprised to see you over here. Don’t you have some nasty geezer to leech off of?”

Konishi sneered. “And why would I spend my time with repulsive old men when dear Hajime here is such good company?” 

Hajime felt something snap in the air then, and not in a good way. Tooru’s smile was so sharp it could cut someone, and Hajime jolted when he felt the other’s grip tighten around him. “What a kind person you are,  _my_ Haji-chan.” His chin dropped down to rest in the crook of Hajime’s neck, tilted so he could look his boyfriend in the face through a half-lidded gaze that sent Hajime’s heart thumping. “Entertaining vermin who use old money to make their insignificant lives feel substantial.” He smirked, and if this situation wasn’t so peculiar Hajime would have a raging hard on, eyes sliding to the side to give Nishida the most patronizing look he could muster, like he was nothing more than rabble. “But my Haji-chan has a big heart, doesn’t he? Always so charitable.”

Hajime didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to respond. His heart was in his throat and he was certain his brain would short-circuit. Tooru had never called him  _my Haji-chan_ , and call him crazy, but Hajime could swear that he detected jealousy in his tone. If he wanted to be truly delusional, Tooru’s current position around him him was born entirely from possessiveness. Like he had seen Hajime with this pretty man trying to make a pass, and had needed to stake his claim and make it clear Hajime was  not available.

Nishida fumed, face twisting nastily. He opened his mouth, hissing, “Why you—“

But Tooru cut him off, lazy and arrogant. “Ah, ah. Better watch what you say, Nishida-kun. Wouldn’t want your current provider, what’s his name? Mm... Ah! Chibana-Kun. Wouldn’t want him to suddenly lose all his profits, would you?” He made a faux pouty face. “You’d have to search for another person to swindle all over again. And your poor family is already struggling to recover from that nasty scandal they got exposed in two years ago.”

Hajime didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so red with fury before. Nishida made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, clearly trying to maintain image. He cut a glance towards Hajime. “When you’re interested in keeping better company, call me.” He slid a card towards him before storming off, sending one last scathing glare in Tooru’s direction.

Unfazed, Tooru hummed to himself, swiping up the card and crumpling it up in one hand as he pulled away from Hajime. “You won’t be needing that. Are you thirsty? We can get you something to drink while I throw this away.”

“Uh, sure,” Hajime agreed, glancing briefly in the direction that the other man had disappeared in. “But what was all that about?”

Tooru shrugged casually, pulling Hajime up. “Let’s just say Nishida likes to stick his nose and hands where they don’t belong. Come on, drinks are this way!”

And that was the end of the conversation. Hajime was left perplexed the rest of the night, even more so when Tooru refused to leave his side.

Hajime concluded that he probably just didn’t want his boyfriend seen with other people. Wouldn’t make for a very convincing loving and committed relationship if Tooru’s lover was seen mingling with others, and Tooru had to keep up appearances for his plan to work, after all.

* * *

Tooru was making process with Yuma. His ex was creeping in, sending him a multitude of gifts and filling his social media with likes and comments, even on the posts with Hajime. His plan had suddenly taken off, and it was fast approaching fruition.

Takahiro, of course, kept Hajime updated, warning him constantly to try and soften the blow, so that way maybe at least Hajime wouldn’t be caught out of the blue, stranded and alone. Hajime was grateful for it, yet he never wavered or attempted to put distance between himself and Tooru, pouring his all into their relationship while he could, if not going even beyond, holding Tooru closer at night when he was allowed, and keeping him selfishly at his side in the morning afterglow, all of it like consciously speeding towards the edge of a cliff and knowing there was nothing to catch you once you careened over.

Meanwhile, Takahiro was desperately trying to get Tooru to see what was in front of him, that love didn’t lie with Yuma, but Hajime. He constantly hounded Tooru, asking him if this was what he really wanted, if he really wanted to return to a relationship like  _that_ when he had  _this_ with Hajime. The way they looked at each, the way they held each other, the way Hajime truly cherished and cared about Tooru. Why was Tooru chasing something that had only come from spite and envy?

At first, Tooru had shooed Takahiro off, scowling and telling him to leave him alone, he knew what he was doing, and he was going to have Yuma, and Hajime... they could remain as friends, maybe, but it didn’t matter, because Hajime wasn’t important to him.

Now, though, Tooru‘s resolve was beginning to waver and he stopped arguing so adamantly, instead growing silent and pensive and dropping the conversation to be continued later, too lost in his thoughts to provide an answer. After all, there had been that incident at the charity event, when he’d been overcome with a maddening sense of possessiveness that he hadn’t been able to understand but acted upon anyway. Furthermore, he was starting to feel all giddy with butterflies whenever he was with Hajime, and all the physical affection, it was starting to feel less and less like acting. Like he genuinely wanted to hold him and kiss him and touch him just because he could. And Yuma... maybe it was because he was playing such an intense game of hard to get, but getting notifications from Yuma wasn’t nearly as exciting when his phone lit up with a text from Hajime, whether it was a mundane thing about his day that Tooru had asked, or an annoyed curse at something obnoxious Tooru had said, or even something cute that had made Hajime think of the other, like the tacky little alien head keychain he saw at the konbini, or even a package of milk bread he passed while doing grocery shopping.

“Good to see you’re finally coming to your senses,” Katsumi had said with bite when Tooru lamented his predicament to his friends. She hadn’t exactly been pleased when she found out what Tooru had been doing, even less so when she met Hajime and saw what a gem he was, so gentle and patient.

“Are you finally going to stop this stupid conquest for Nakajima now?” Sayuri asked.

Tooru frowned and flopped over on his stomach to look at the elder Kuroo from where was sprawled on the couch. “Why would I do that?”

“Uh, maybe because you’re realizing you’re actually in love with Iwaizumi and not that piece of garbage of an ex?” Takahiro suggested. 

Tooru waved him off. “No, no. I don’t like Iwachan, but—“

“Oh my god.”

“Is he serious?”

There was a long suffering cry.

“This is a joke. It has to be.”

Tooru guffawed in bewilderment at the reactions of his friends. “Listen, I think I’m just focusing a little too much on Iwachan and I’s relationship and I’m losing sight of my goal here. I’m going to take a step back and focus more on Yuma-chan now. It’ll be good for Iwachan, too, for when we do break up.”

Silence. 

Another  _oh my god_ . 

“What?!” Tooru pouted.

Takahiro vigorously rubbed at his temples. “Say sike right fucking now.”

“You don’t honestly believe you don’t have feelings for Iwaizumi,” Tetsuro said in disbelief.

“I don’t!”

“You said you feel  _giddy_ ,” Takahiro snapped.

“A side effect of becoming so engrossed in the relationship,” Tooru waved Takahiro off. “I mean, what do you expect to happen when you find someone you enjoy talking to— Hey! Why are you all looking at me like that?!”

Takara stood abruptly. “Nope, I’m not doing this. Bye.” 

They all watched as she wordlessly stalked for the door, put her shoes on, sent a pointed look to Tooru, then promptly left with a deliberate slam of the door. 

Tooru gaped after her. He didn’t understand why everyone was so upset, he was being perfectly reasonable!

“Tooru,” a small voice said. Everyone startled, because while Kenma was the quiet type, when he said something, it mattered. Tooru didn’t know why, but he was suddenly very nervous as he looked towards the young stock trader, company CEO, programmer, and successful YouTuber all in one. 

“Yes, Kenchan?”

“You’re being really stupid.”

That was all he said. Short, blunt, cold words that shot straight through Tooru like a knife. Tooru made a small noise, stiffening where he was. Kenma, completely unfazed, returned back to his gaming. 

And that was that. Kenma had spoken, nothing more than a simple statement, but it was enough to send Tooru spiraling, now second guessing everything. And so he had to think, Hajime, or Yuma?

* * *

In a truly infuriatingly Tooru fashion, he chose neither. One could argue he was choosing Yuma, however, with the way he was allowing the man to try and worm his way back into his life with sweet words and pretty gifts, and how he was slowly beginning to put distance between himself and Hajime.

On one end, Yuma was attempting to meet with Tooru in person again, and Tooru always made excuses, with flimsy apologies that, sorry, no, he was busy, date with Iwachan! Or maybe they did finally plan a date and time, but then only a few minutes before, Tooru would make the excuse that something had come up, even if nothing was on his schedule, and he would hide out at Hajime’s for a few hours, the latter none the wiser on why his boyfriend suddenly wanted to spend time with him, specifically in his apartment.

And yet, despite his spontaneous visits that weren’t really spontaneous, Tooru’s distance was enough for Hajime to notice, and it struck terror in his heart. He knew that his doom was upon him, that his limited days were dwindling, and soon he’d be left with nothing but the broken pieces of his heart that Tooru had managed to fill with life again, only to rip it out and shatter it against the ground. 

Such were the thoughts that plagued Hajime while he lounged with Tooru on one of his sudden visits. Tooru was curled up at one end of the couch, knees pressed up to his chest while his thumbs flew across the screen of his phone. Just moments before his fingers had been running through Hajime’s hair, who was leaned against him, legs spread out along the rest of the couch while he tried to focus on the files of his clients that he would be seeing during the upcoming week. Tried, because his heart was pounding inside his head, worry gnawing and wearing him down like a woodpecker to the trunk of a tree. Incessant, ruthless, devouring until nothing was left. Every day he was left fretting, wondering when it would be his last with Tooru, when Tooru’s plan would finally be complete, and he would have Yuma again, and Hajime would be tossed out like last night’s trash. 

While Hajime was having a miniature meltdown, Tooru was engaging in his usual banter with Yuma in his Instagram DMs.

_Yuma: Why won’t you just let me see you? I miss you._

_Me: Hm, guess you should’ve thought of that before you up and left me (^з^)- ☆_

_Yuma: I know, I’m sorry. Please, let me make things right, baby. Just one chance._

_Me: You’re not very convincing you know~ I appreciate all the gifts you’ve sent me, but you forget I have plenty of wealth to buy things myself_

_Me: AND a hunky doting boyfriend who isn’t exactly poor either ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ )_

_Yuma: im better than him, you know that._

_Me: are you? you’re doing a terrible job of proving so. let’s see, who was it that dated me for five years, then dropped me just because they saw something new and shiny flirt by them?_

_Me: Iwachan wouldn’t do that so \ ( ˘ ³˘) /_

Tooru ignored the truth in his statement, as well as the implications of what it meant that he knew Hajime was loyal to a fault, and yet here Tooru was, using him to get back with the ex who had left him at the drop of a hat.

_Yuma: I promise you, Tooru. I’ve learned the error of my ways._

_Yuma: just one dinner, let me show you_

_Yuma: I’ll never leave you again, I know now that it was the worst mistake I could’ve made._

_Yuma: you mean so much to me_

_Me: ..._

_Me: just one dinner you say?_

_Yuma: yes_

_Me: and when exactly would this dinner be?_

_Yuma: right now, if you’re able_

_Me: hmm_

_Me: say please ( ˘ ³˘)_

_Yuma: Please, Tooru._

_Yuma: I’ll get on my knees for you, just please give me a chance._

_Me: you’ll have to earn your right to get on your knees for me again_

_Me: but I suppose one dinner tonight won’t hurt_

_Me: send me the location, I’ll be over within half an hour_

Or more, if he felt like making Yuma wait.

Yuma sent him the location of a fancier restaurant, one of the ones that cooked your food right in front of you. It was top quality, with fine decor and wealthy patrons. One of Tooru’s favorites amongst the higher-end choices. 

At his side, Hajime was engrossed in one of his profiles, completely oblivious to what conspired behind his back. Tooru felt a twinge of guilt, but quickly brushed the feeling away. There was no reason to be guilty, at least, that’s what he told himself.

“Iwachan,” Tooru murmured, not wanting to startle his boyfriend.

Hajime didn’t respond. Tooru looked down and realized his boyfriend’s eyes had drifted close. He must have fallen asleep at some point, probably exhausted from how hard he worked to make sure people were taken care of as much as they could be. Tooru chuckled to himself, nudging Hajime lightly. “Iwachaaan.”

Hajime didn’t wake right away, and it took a bit more nudging and coaxing before his eyes fluttered open. He blinked blearily up at Tooru, mind slowly focusing. “Nngh... Yeah, ‘Kawa?”

Tooru tried not to preen at the tenderness with which Hajime said his name, even after just waking up. Actually, he tried not to think of it at all, lest that niggling kernel of guilt rooted itself and sprouted into a nuisance. “Something came up and I need to go meet with someone. Don’t wait up for me, ‘kay?”

“Oh... yeah, okay.” Hajime was still attempting to wake up, and a little furrow appeared between his eyebrows while a small frown tugged at his lips as he attempted to wrap his mind around the world again.

“Don’t think too hard Iwachan, you’ll hurt your brain!” Tooru laughed, pressing his fingers against the other’s forehead to smooth out the crinkle. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Clean up then go to bed, sleepyhead.” As he said this, Tooru stood, careful to gently support Hajime’s head. He took the papers out of Hajime’s hands and from where they had spread out around his chest, laying them neatly on the low-lying coffee table to be taken care of later.

Hajime watched it all through hazy consciousness, frown growing more evident. “It’s early though...” At least, he was pretty sure it was. It had only been four when he last remembered looking at the time. Of course, who could say how long he had been asleep?

“Yeah, it is,” Tooru agreed with a laugh. He couldn’t help it, Hajime was too cute like this, all loopy with lingering sleep. He reached down and ran a gentle hand through Hajime’s deceptively soft spiky hair. “But how early were you awake this morning, and how long have you been working?”

A sleepy pout took form on Hajime’s face and it took all of Tooru not to squeal. He was too adorable. 

Tooru also knew he had won. Just earlier, when he had come knocking on Hajime’s door, a drowsy Hajime had answered, rubbing at sleep-heavy eyes with a small smile upon seeing Tooru. He bid the brunette inside, stifling a yawn. Tooru had asked why Iwachan was so tired, to which Hajime explained that the sweet old lady who lived down the hall and often gifted Hajime with homemade things ranging from food to scarves, had come knocking on his door at five am, and he spent a good portion of the morning assisting her in finding her cat, which ended up being found on Hajime’s balcony, the place she often liked to end up after making her owner and Hajime look for hours on end for her. 

His entire day, really, was a cycle of helping people. There was Issei, who Hajime had prior arrangements to help today, then Kotarou had asked if Hajime would be willing to watch his team practice since their athletic trainer called in sick and some of the players needed special medical attention, and then Tsukiko had called, unable to calm down Miyoko, who needed some reassurance that yes, she was really dating Sayuri now, and yes, she was good enough, and also because apparently Tsukiko’s trendy fashion sense was too soft for Miyoko and somehow Hajime was the guy with the next best fashion sense. 

He had been in the middle of a nap before planning to review his clients and making sure their recoveries were on the right track when his phone pinged, notifying him of Tooru on his way. He still had about ten minutes and had slipped into a light slumber before Tooru arrived, wherein after that they had settled and brought them to their current situation. 

“Get some rest, Iwachan, you need it. Since I’ll be busy you should be sleeping later, I’ll tell you goodnight now, so night night.” And before he really knew what he was doing, Tooru leaned down and brushed his lips against Hajime’s forehead as a departing kiss, then left the apartment with a final wave and promise to see Hajime tomorrow. He didn’t think about his actions, and neither did Hajime.

Maybe Hajime, should’ve, though, or perhaps it was for the best he couldn’t. If his mind hadn’t been so muddled, maybe he would’ve questioned the casual display of affection, something Tooru had been scarce about from the start, then completely stopped in the recent escapade to put distance between him and Hajime. Maybe he could’ve savored the last moment before that distance grew from a tiny crack, and split into a gaping chasm.

* * *

His dinner with Yuma couldn’t have gone better, in Tooru’s personal opinion. He arrived under the pretense of friends, and made sure to keep that barrier between himself and Yuma. Yuma tried to cross it several times, of course, but Tooru was firm, constantly reminding the other that he no longer had that privilege. Yuma immediately apologized whenever this happened, looking sheepish and giving the excuse that he had just missed Tooru so much, and it felt like old times. He couldn’t help but want to dote on him. Tooru kept himself from preening. He was finally achieving what he wanted.

When the dinner ended, Yuma tried to lean in for a goodbye kiss, but Tooru pushed him away with the push of a finger to his lips, stating in a pompous voice, “You have to earn that right back, too!”

Yuma had sighed forlornly, asked if he could at least kiss his hand.

Tooru made a show of pretending to think, smiled, winked, threw up a finger heart like those of the K-Pop idols he loved to listen to, and said simply, cheerfully, “No.”

The one fruition Yuma  _did_ earn, however, was the chance to prove himself to Tooru in person once again. Thus started the beginning of the end.

Now that he had Yuma’s attention and allowed him back into his life physically, Tooru’s timetable flipped,and he now made less and less time for Hajime. It didn’t help that he had a fashion show coming up, debuting a new line of androgynous formal wear, one of the many lines he’s taken the fashion world by storm as one of the biggest designers to support the drift from the cis-heteronormative trends. And his works were always so innovative and fashionable, critiques couldn’t do anything but praise him. 

His free time dwindled, and what time he had he spent with Yuma, continuing his game of making the other work for his affections.

Something felt off, though. The more time he spent with Yuma, the more he began to compare. Yuma’s eyes were the wrong color: instead of sharp emerald green softened with kindness, they were an obsidian brown, filled with cold cleverness and an ambition for power. Yuma’s hair, Tooru realized, was severely under conditioned and dead, a nasty shade of dyed blonde, nowhere near the wonderful softness of naturally cared for spikes of dark brown. His skin wasn’t a golden tan, kissed by sun and good genetics. His smile wasn’t the kind that scrunched up his whole face and rivaled the light of the sun. His voice wasn’t a soothing, deep timbre. He didn’t have the body of a man who could easily crush a skull between muscles, yet every touch contradicted that imposing strength, gentle and reverent. He didn’t have a heart of gold, one that beat to and bled for the purpose of helping others, no matter the circumstance. He didn’t have an adorable childhood love for a giant reptile monster that tried to destroy Tokyo in its popularized franchise. He wasn’t a slow riser who needed lots of coaxing and pampering to wake up in the morning, who was still half asleep after opening his eyes until he had a cup of coffee or cold shower. He didn’t run in the mornings. Didn’t sleep with a million pillows. Didn’t drink his coffee with a dash of cream and pinch of sugar. Didn’t seem like a health jock but actually lit up like a child at the prospect of sweets. Nor did Yuma give Tooru the type of giddy butterflies he got when he talked to a certain physical therapist, or the complete ease and comfort he felt in his presence. His heart didn’t speed up in excitement at being able to see Yuma like it did for Hajime. 

There were so many things Yuma didn’t or wasn’t, and Tooru was concerned with the growing list. Partly because of this was an additional reason as to why he put distance between himself and Hajime, yet the comparisons didn’t stop, nor did the occasional fleeting thoughts of  _I’d rather be with Iwachan_ or  _I wonder what Iwachan’s doing right now_ that Tooru always pushed away the moment they crossed his mind.

Hajime wasn’t stupid. He had noticed the distance between himself and Tooru the moment it began, and he knew what it meant. He also knew, contrary to the prior statement, that he was being an absolute idiot, holding onto the rare moments he  did get to steal with Tooru. He gripped Tooru a little harder when they tangled in the sheets, held him a little tighter in the morning after’s, allowed his touches to linger a little longer, loved him harder, all in a vain attempt to convince him to stay, but even he knew his efforts were futile, because all the while, Hajime was committing every second with Tooru to heart, before memories were all that he would have left.

What Hajime was completely unaware of, though, was how Tooru found himself beginning to teeter further away from Yuma.

And one night, the final nail was driven into the coffin. Yuma was taking him to a social, where many important business partnerships were going to be made. They weren’t going as Yuma and his plus one, as much as the heir wanted, but rather Tooru and Yuma, two close friends going to the same place and sticking by each other because familiar faces were more comfortable than strangers.

They were getting ready at Tooru’s apartment, where Yuma sauntered into Tooru’s closet without permission as if he owned it. Tooru allowed him to do so simply because he was too busy looking for a certain suit jacket. 

Upon venturing where he didn’t belong, Yuma discovered that a certain pair of gold and diamond earrings were missing. He questioned the whereabouts of the pieces of jewelry, to which Tooru breezily explained he got rid of them.

Tooru hadn’t just gotten rid of them, though. They had been replaced. By Hajime. With a pair of pretty silver moons attached to drops of iridescent pearl, which Tooru planned to wear tonight, not that he told Yuma.

Yuma, predictably, was not pleased. “Those were my favorite pair.”

“If you wanted them, you could’ve taken them at any time.”

“You know I liked them on you.“

Tooru popped out from where he finally found his suit jacket, cutting Yuma off with a sharp look. “And you know  _I_ don’t like them. Or you would, if you would bother to listen.” 

Yuma faltered, and Tooru didn’t deign to acknowledge him as he shrugged on his jacket, a design he had created himself, with pinks and purples clashing with greens and blues, yellows and reds and whites between them, all woven together in a pattern of contemporary art with inspiration from traditional. Beneath the open jacket was a white button up with big buttons that looked black from a distance but a closer look revealed them to be intricately made with fine details and were actually a dark red center surrounded by a deep purplish-blue and silver marks. The top of his shirt had a style that made it look like the top button was undone, though there actually was no top button. The shirt was tucked into black, fitted pants, topped with a matching black belt meant only for style. All he needed now were his shoes and jewelry.

“Tooru,” Yuma said as Tooru brushed past him to collect Hajime’s moon earrings, the silver pendant necklace that would peak through the open collar of his shirt, the collection of little silver bracelets for one wrist, and the several simple bands of silver rings he’d be wearing on each hand, along with one ring made of a large midnight blue diamond. He didn’t actually get to put on any of the jewelry, however, because Yuma was pulling him gently by the wrist, moving down to hold his hand and rub soothing circles with his thumb into Tooru’s skin. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I really wanted you to wear them tonight. You’re such a pretty little thing when you wear them, and everyone knows you belong to me when they see them.”

Tooru immediately shoved him off. “First of all, I’m not a thing, nor am I one of your shiny possessions.” That’s something Tooru had learned with Hajime. Before, he had been fine with being shown off as Yuma’s pretty little prize boyfriend, but that was all he had ever known. There was being proud of your partner, and then there was just liking the idea of how they made you look good, like some kind of accessory. And that was another thing. With Yuma, Tooru had always been put on some kind of pedestal. A pretty boy who was to be handled as if he were a fragile doll that would break, and dressed up like one. A display to be gawked at, but never be played with. 

With Hajime, however, he had been his  _partner_ . His equal. They were a perfect equilibrium of push and pull and... 

And he was comparing again. Tooru pushed the thoughts out of his mind and returned to his dresser of jewelry, beginning to don them on like a samurai and his armor and weapons, starting with his earrings and making his way down.

“Second of all, they don’t even go with my outfit.” Tooru made it down to his rings, sliding each one down the length of his fingers. 

“I know, it’s just—“

“You keep pushing, but I’m telling you no. You know who wouldn’t be trying to argue with me right now? Iwachan.” Tooru sniffed and promptly left, leaving Yuma to hurry and follow after him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Tooru,” Yuma insisted. “I’ll drop the earrings thing. Let’s just head to the social, yeah?”

Tooru simply nodded, already heading towards the door. He was amazed Yuma hadn’t snapped yet, Tooru had been deliberately throwing “Iwachan this” and “Iwachan that” comments around to push Yuma, yet he merely dodged the remarks, though it was hilarious to watch him scramble, to try to be better than Hajime. Deep in his bones, Tooru knew it would never happen, that Hajime was leagues above Yuma. Not that he would acknowledged that.

* * *

The social went by without much excitement. It was the typical stiff and high-end event socials usually were, with polite conversation and thinly veiled insults. Before, Tooru had loved them, enjoyed being shown off and making his own connections with people. However, this particular social was one from Yuma’s circle of society, a somewhat different degree than Tooru’s typical crowd. And he found that while nothing was going wrong, he was incredibly bored and would have preferred being literally anywhere else, though his studio or with Hajime sounded most appealing. Every so often he felt the urge to pull out his phone and text Hajime, to complain, to ask what he was up to, to just talk and banter in the easy way they do. But as it was, this was a  social event, wherein, he had to be _social_ , and not glued to his phone.

After what felt like an eternity, it was finally time to leave and go home. Yuma walked with Tooru outside where they would wait for the former’s driver. When they were relatively alone, Yuma took Tooru’s hand and pulled him close, smiling up at the designer. “Thank you for tonight. I had fun.” 

Tooru opened his mouth to reply, something breezy to brush him off, but before he could, he was suddenly being pulled down, and there were familiar chapped lips on his. Alarm swelled up in him and he immediately shoved Yuma away. “Yuma-chan! What the hell!” He wiped furiously at his lips, a disgusted scowl twisting his features. 

Yuma just gave him a disbelieving look. “Come on, Tooru, are you still really going to deny us a kiss? You have to be getting tired of this game by now.”

Tooru’s next look was sharp and angry. “It’s not a game Yuma-chan. It’s me making you work because  you left for some sex on legs. I need reassurance you won’t be doing that again, which, you’re not doing a very good job at. I saw the way you were looking at the heirs of that other tech company. And in case you’ve forgotten,  _I’m_ still in a relationship.”

“You can’t give that excuse and you know it,” Yuma snapped shortly. “You say you’re dating that guy, yet here you are, coming with me to events as my plus one, giving  _me_ the time of day instead of your so-called amazing boyfriend who you’re ‘oh so in love with’.” He put finger quotations around the last part, possessing the audacity to roll his eyes while he was at it. He settled Tooru with a condescending look, as if he was talking to a child who didn’t understand the way of the world. “I’m the one you really want, just drop this silly act.” He pulled Tooru close again, caressing his cheek. “Break up with him if you’re such a high and mighty moral person, but hurry up so  we can go back to how we were.”

Once again, Tooru was shoving Yuma away from him. He was revolted and angry, something he wouldn’t understand if he were thinking, but he wasn’t, all he could focus on was how this all felt  _wrong_ , the touch was wrong, the embrace was wrong, the words were wrong, everything was wrong, and some kind of discontent fear shot through him at the words  _how we were_ . He couldn’t connect the dots just yet, but Hajime had shown him what a real relationship should be like, and Yuma’s micro-controlling, always speaking to him like Tooru was inferior, like Yuma knew everything and Tooru knew nothing was not it. Tooru hated it, especially after Hajime had shown him what it was like to have his own voice, to be confident in his opinions and be encouraged by the one who was supposed to be his number one supporter and... and he was beginning to understand that maybe Yuma wasn’t right for him anymore.

The thought washed over him like a wave crashing onto the beach. He blinked as it splashed upon him, then flowed back into the ocean of his thoughts. It was there and gone in a flash, the newness and sudden clarity of the realization, but the effects were still there, the way sand was left dark and wet after the wave disappeared.

Suddenly, Tooru felt the overwhelming need to be anywhere else. He stumbled back a step, then two. Looked at Yuma who was watching him, dark eyes hard and judging. Nothing like warm emerald green that glimmered with love and affection. And Tooru realized then, that the reason he was making so many comparisons was because he had been trying to show himself how awful Yuma truly was. It was time to cut him out of his life, cut himself free. So that’s what he did.

“We’re done, Yuma-chan. You can go sleep with whoever the hell you want, because you’re no longer my concern.” 

Yuma gaped at him, unable to form a coherent response right away. It was shock that hit him first, long enough that Tooru, feeling much lighter than he had in a long while, turned on his heel and began walking towards the train station to make his way to a certain golden boy’s apartment.

Only after he had walked some distance did Yuma collect himself, yelling furiously, “Oikawa Tooru you can’t just walk off like that! Hey! Stop walking away! Do you have any idea of what you’re leaving behind?! And for what?! A good for nothing physical therapist?! Listen to me!”

Yuma’s shouts of protest were ignored as Tooru kept walking, only deigning to wave once over his shoulder to get his message across. Yuma had made a critical point earlier; he was not the one Tooru should be giving his time and energy to. 

Tooru disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind Yuma and all the burdens of obsessing over him.

* * *

While Tooru walked towards the train station, he picked back up that little thought that had struck him suddenly, polishing it and turning it over, trying to exploit every point and angle he could find. Yuma wasn’t the one for him anymore, that much he knew. He also knew his affections had shifted, as had his standards and tastes. He had once been madly in love with Yuma and insanely attracted to him. Now when he looked at him, he could only see all the ugliness he had somehow been blind to. 

In the midst of his thoughts, Tooru entered the train station and realized that oh, it was pretty late, and Hajime was most definitely asleep by now. Knowing how much Hajime deserved his rest, Tooru decided he didn’t want to disturb him, as much he wanted to see him. As he made his way towards a train that would take him close to his own apartment, Tooru’s thoughts shifted to Hajime, sound asleep and at peace. A small smile appeared as he imagined his Iwachan, probably laying on his back the way he liked to do, limbs spread out, a content little smile on his face, possibly drooling and definitely snoring. It was adorable, the way Hajime’s default sleeping face was almost always a smile, like he was having the best of dreams with absolutely no worries in the world. Every so often Tooru awoke in the night, or fell asleep after Hajime, and so he was able to bear witness to the other’s sleeping habits. All those nights of observation manifested now, as Tooru’s heart fluttered at how cute sleepy Hajime was, so clingy and soft. What he wouldn’t give to be able to hold Hajime in that moment, pepper his face with kisses because his face was just so kissable, shower him in the love that he deserved. Hajime would smile, big and bright, laugh that beautiful laugh of his, a pretty blush on his cheeks, eyes squinted closed.

Tooru could never tire of it, the way his smile and happiness lit up the room like a rising sun on a warm, lazy summer morning, rays of light peaking in through the curtains. A lazy summer morning spent with Hajime, perhaps with some slow, innocent kisses, soft whispers in a quiet, low voice to coax his lover awake, being greeted once again with that brilliant smile and warm green eyes and a raspy tone heavy with sleep. Eventually, once they made it out of bed, they’d meander into the kitchen, have a nice, easy breakfast with tender gazes and fleeting touches. It all sounded so nice to Tooru, sharing such a precious and relaxing morning with the one he loved—

Oh.

_Oh_ . 

That was it. That was the missing puzzle piece. 

Suddenly everything clicked into place, and it was like he was stepping back and seeing the big picture for the first time. Yuma wasn’t right for him. He didn’t love or want him anymore. The one his heart truly desired, was Hajime. 

A warm affection had taken root in Tooru’s heart for Hajime, and silently, unknowingly, it had grown and sprouted into a love he couldn’t explain. Without warning Hajime had begun to fill his thoughts, Hajime became the one he wanted to talk to, wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to love and cherish and treasure.

And oh god, he had treated him so so horribly, and he was just now realizing his feelings, and  _he was in love with Hajime_ .

Tooru broke into a sprint the moment he stepped off the train, detouring the direction of his home and instead running towards Takahiro’s, where he knew his friends were all having a game night, something he had opted out of to spend with Yuma, a terrible, horrible mistake that he regretted.

Tooru was thankful he had a spare key to Takahiro’s apartment, and aptly slammed the door open upon arrival. “I’m in love with Iwachan,” he announced breathlessly, nearly tripping over himself as he threw off his shoes and slid into the slippers he usually wore, scrambling to the small gathering of his friends around Takahiro’s living room coffee table.

His friends watched him, unimpressed and utterly unfazed to see his sudden appearance. A few of them simply continued their game of uno.

“Oh wow, he finally figured it out,” Takara snorted as she laid down a blue card. 

“Finally, I thought I was going to grow grey hair before that happened,” Tetsuro replied, placing down a “draw four”. Takahiro cursed him for that as he took four cards from a dwindling deck, while Kuroo cackled and chose the color red.

Sayuri cheered and slammed down a draw one card, to which Kenma silently obeyed. He seemed untroubled by his circumstances, though he also held the least amount of cards of everyone. Takahiro, poor guy, had the most, enough to create a giant, cascading fan.

“You guys could act a little more surprised or invested,” Tooru pouted as he neared, taking in the card game that had become somewhat popular in Japan.

“Oh wow. I’m so shocked.”

“Really? You? In love with Iwaizumi? My mind is blown.”

“Did anyone see this coming? I certainly didn’t see this coming. I think I’m getting whiplash.”

“Mean! All of you!” Tooru huffed as he noticed an abandoned deck of cards. Assuming they were his sister’s, who he could hear in the kitchen, Tooru sat down and inserted himself into the game. “Iwachan wouldn’t betray me like this!”

Once again, he was met with deadpans all around.

“Uh, yeah he would.”

“He’d be calling you dumbass, because he only speaks truth.” Oikawa pouted further as his friends continued to gang up on him, opening his mouth to gripe when,

“And you most certainly deserve to be called a dumbass, for all the stupid shit you’ve been up to with him,” Katsumi said as she returned with a multitude of snacks, dumping them onto the spare place on the table before sitting right on top of Tooru.

“Gah! Nee-chan! Get off!” Tooru yelped, becoming a mess of flailing limbs as he tried to shove his sister off. 

Katsumi just cackled, putting all of her weight into crushing her little brother while plucking her cards up from his hands. “If you didn’t want to be sat on, you shouldn’t have taken my spot!”

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, I got you down to two cards even with your horrible hand,” Tooru grumbled, accepting defeat with a cross of his arms.

“Yes, yes thank you, Tooru,” Katsumi patted her brother on the head, ruffling his hair and earning another round of outcry. “Let us finish our game and then we’ll talk about your overdue epiphany.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Hanamaki snorted. “Tooru’s a dumbass, Iwaizumi’s too good for the shit he’s put him through, they’re both idiots in love, Tooru finally realized all of this, and now he’s sitting here having an existential crisis instead of sweeping Iwaizumi off his feet and reassuring him he’ll never hurt him again. Ha!” He placed down a skip card, voiding Sayuri, who only had three cards. Sayuri was unfazed and simply shrugged as Kenma placed down another blue card, now possessing three as well after Sayuri made him draw four and having a few times he didn’t have a playable card, forcing him to draw more.

“Hey! Makki!” And then Tooru realized his friend had a point and promptly shut up. “Oh, put that down,” He said to his sister, noticing when it was her turn, already taking a skip card and putting it down for her.

Katsumi quickly said uno before anyone else could, while the others protested.

“You can’t have help from Tooru! That’s cheating!”

“Disqualified! Draw 25!”

Katsumi ignored them all, sticking up her nose in a haughty way that was eerily similar to Tooru. “I don’t see how this is cheating. You didn’t see anyone else’s cards did you?” She asked as turned back to her brother. Tooru quickly shook his head, raising his arms in surrender. He truly hadn’t. 

“That doesn’t matter! We all know Tooru’s some kind of freak genius at this game.”

“My amazing observation skills and strategic abilities are not freakish, Makki.”

“No, but you are,” Tetsuro snickered as Takahiro said, gesturing wildly at the Kuroo siblings and Kenma,

“He’s the terrifying game strategist who can point out your ever flaw, he’s the obnoxious provoker who’s just as observant, and she’s the scary monster who just has to look at you and know your deepest darkest secret. And yet, you’re the one who almost always wins!”

Tooru pursed his lips. He didn’t have an argument for that. 

“Case closed!”

“We’re almost done and this is our fifth game anyway, let’s just finish,” Sayuri smoothly cut in then as she placed down a card. “Tooru-kun has something to discuss with us, after all.” She had also already won one game, which was good enough for her.

“Agreed,” Kenma said quietly, placing down his own card. Frankly, he was bored with uno and ready to pull out his gaming system.

Katsumi frowned as she was forced to pick up a card from the deck. Sometime during the uproar the color had switched to green, of which she had none.

“And besides,” Tooru started as the game continued, picking up the conversation again from before Katsumi had grasped an uno, “I haven’t hurt him... yet. Iwachan’s sleeping right now, and he deserves that sleep with how hard he works,” there were some fake gagging faces at the way he sounded so smitten while saying that, “So I don’t want to bother him. It’s not like he knows, so tomorrow, I’ll tell him everything and— why are you all looking at me like that?”

Takahiro avoided eye contact, but a look of anger flitted across his features. The others were looking at him with a mix of disapproval and pity. Tooru didn’t like, nervousness gripping his insides.

It was Sayuri who explained, quietly, “Iwaizumi-kun knows. And so do his friends—“

“ _What_ .” Was the first thing Tooru blurted. He felt cold dread drop into his stomach, slowly spreading through his body.

“I told Iwaizumi, when you refused to,” Takahiro stated, looking at Tooru now. 

“And I told Miyoko. And then she told the others, and then they found out Iwaizumi-kun had known all this time, but he was still okay with it.” There was less condescension in her tone than there would’ve been before, because they all knew now, at least, Tooru had come to his senses, and they could all see the regret and fear seeping into his eyes. “Because he had already fallen in love with you, anyway. And he wanted to have what time with you that he could.”

“And not to be that asshole,” Takahiro chimed in, very much being the asshole who made someone feel worse for the mistakes they’ve already realized, “But Iwaizumi  also hasn’t had a very good track record with broken hearts. The only reason Issei and the others haven’t come for your throat yet is because Iwaizumi specifically told them not to.”

“W-What do you mean?” Tooru asked, and his voice had suddenly become very small as the horror of what he’d put Hajime through began to stack up.

“He’s had his heart broken like this before,” Sayuri informed him, not unkindly. “Back in high school. Had a crush on a guy he didn’t know was a jerk, dated him, gave his innocence to him, only to find out fucking had been the goal the entire time, and everything had been fake.”

Tooru made a pained sound in the back of his throat. That was too close to the situation now. “How long has he known?”

This time Takahiro did give him an appraising look. “Paris. I told you I wasn’t going to stand by and watch this shit happen without Iwaizumi knowing.”

Tooru was thankful he was already on the floor, because he certainly would’ve ended up there with the way he felt the world slip from under him. “Fuck,” was all he said, a serious understatement to everything going on in his head. “I’ve fucked up.”

Tetsuro nodded solemnly. “You have.” 

Tooru threw his hands over his face and made a dying noise as a new wave of remorse washed over him. 

In the silence that followed, Katsumi eyed her little brother, watching him, taking in his formal attire, connecting that with how he had burst into Takahiro’s apartment, how he now knew his feelings for Hajime were genuine. “Is it safe to assume that you’ve ended things with Nakajima?”

Tooru pulled his hands away, revealing a face scrunched with revulsion at the memory. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then what are you going to do now?”

“Huh?”

Katsumi raised her eyebrows at him, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You’re done with Nakajima, and you’ve realized that you fucked up with Hajime-kun and hurt him. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Tooru mulled over her words, considering his options. He was already having Hajime over for their weekend movie marathon tomorrow. It would be the perfect time to talk, sort everything out, start over and do this entire affair properly. This time, he wasn’t going to screw up, and he was going to treat Hajime with the love and care that he deserved.

Determination filled his eyes as he met those of his sister’s. “I’m going to make things right.”

Katsumi, seeing the resolve in her little brother’s eyes, smiled. “I believe in you.”

* * *

“Iwachan!” Oikawa greeted brightly as Hajime entered his apartment, the latter easily slipping into the slippers that had been designated as his whenever he came over. Hajime offered a small smile and his own little “hey, ‘kawa” as Tooru wrapped around him in a hug, unable to return it thanks to the snacks he had brought over. Tooru pulled away, marveling at the raw affection in the little gesture, wondering how in the world he had let himself take Hajime’s beautiful smile for granted. He didn’t notice he was staring until it was too late.

“Are we going to just stand here or are we going to watch some movies?” Hajime teased, snapping Tooru back to reality. He had no idea of the thoughts behind Tooru’s appreciative gaze, thus was even a little baffled by it.

“Oh! Right! Um...” He bit his lip, eyes glancing down at the bag of snacks in Hajime’s hands. He took them from Hajime, scurrying over to his coffee table and setting them down.

Hajime followed in perplexed amusement, only becoming more bemused as he noticed the lack of any streaming channels pulled up or stacks of dvds of shitty old alien movies. Hell, the large flat screen hanging from the wall wasn’t even on. “Eh? Did you not pick any movies yet?”

“Ne, I thought Iwachan and I could pick them together!” Tooru answered airily. Too airily. Hajime frowned and turned towards Tooru, finding him playing with his hands anxiously, pointedly not looking up.

Hajime‘s frown deepened. The habit mixed with the change in routine was making  _him_ nervous. “Um, okay. What are you feeling?” To try and keep some normalcy, he reached down for the remote, only for Tooru’s hand to shoot out and grab his wrist. It wasn’t harsh, in fact, the gentleness with which Tooru was holding him was more concerning than if he had used a vice-like grip. It was just enough to stop Hajime in his tracks, to grab his attention.

“Actually, Iwachan... I... I need to talk to you about something.”

Hajime froze. 

The sudden tension made Tooru look up, and he startled at the sudden terror that shadowed over Hajime’s eyes, probably unknown to Hajime himself. Tooru cursed himself as his heart ached for the other. He had been so worried about Hajime’s reaction and anger, something that realistically, deep down, would never come, that he didn’t even stop to think about how Hajime might feel. It dawned on him that Hajime had been going months now, fearing the day Tooru would come to him and tell him it was all over, that he had succeeded with Yuma and didn’t need Hajime anymore. And here Tooru was, being all somber and mysterious. Hajime, understandably, probably thought this was the end. 

And yet Hajime, his sweet, wonderful and hurting Hajime, he only bit his lip to show his insecurity, another thing that was probably small and unintentional. “Wh-what do you want to talk about?” He suddenly couldn’t make eye contact with Tooru, and if Tooru moved his hand down to hold the other’s he would find sweaty palms.

Sadness filled Tooru for Hajime and the fear the latter was trying so hard not to show. God, he had done so wrong to him. Gently, Tooru pulled Hajime closer, saying softly, “Haji...”

The shortened version of his given name caused Hajime to look at Tooru and meet his eyes. He winced, scared that Tooru would see his worries. Tooru did, of course, but his reaction was much different than Hajime’s worst fears.

Tooru cradled Hajime’s face softly, running his thumb tenderly along his cheek. “Baby... I’m so sorry.” He held Hajime’s gaze, seeing the panic in emerald green that should only been happy and amended quickly, “I’ve treated you so horribly. I’m so sorry. Haji, you don’t deserve what I’ve done to you.” Confusion now swirled in Hajime’s eyes with that terror, and Tooru choked. He could feel the burning threat of tears behind his eyes and desperately hoped they stayed in. He didn’t need to be a sobbing mess right now. 

“I know you know, and I’m so so sorry. I keep saying that, and not explaining, I know, and it’s probably confusing the hell out of you and I’m sorry for that too, I just... fuck Hajime I screwed up so badly with you. Hell, I can’t even get this out right. Okay, let me just clarify, I... I want you. I’m not letting you go, okay?”

“‘Kawa?” Hajime’s voice was so so small, so frightened, and Tooru hated the way Hajime was trying so hard not to let himself hope. 

Tooru took a deep breath. He needed to do this right. He needed to say everything he mulled over the entire night, and make sure Hajime knew just how much he was loved, that he was safe. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested, already tugging Hajime down to the sofa behind them. Hajime followed him, because he was too scared to do anything else, to think or give any leeway to any of his racing, confused thoughts.

Tooru did take Hajime’s hands then, shifting as close to him as he could. “I’m going to talk. Please don’t say anything until the end, okay?” 

Hajime nodded numbly.

Tooru took a deep breath.

“I know you know everything, about me, about this. I know about you and that you’ve known this entire time. And I’m going to say it again, maybe I’ll say it for the rest of our lives, but I’m so, so, so sorry. I’ve been hurting you for months, thinking it was okay that I didn’t tell you that our relationship was built on a lie, that I had entered this thing with an end in mind. And you, Hajime, you just silently took it, just accepted that I would treat you like that, when, for some reason, you were unconditionally and completely in love with an idiot like me, who didn’t deserve the love of your heart of gold.”

Hajime opened his mouth to protest, always ready to jump to Tooru’s defense, something Tooru knew, appreciated, loved, and held up a hand to stop. “No talking, remember?” Hajime immediately closed his mouth. Tooru smiled gratefully and continued. 

“I  _didn’t_ deserve your love. Hajime, you love so unconditionally, so beautifully and wonderfully. You’re a gentle soul, so selfless, so pure, so kind. I... I can’t even begin to explain how  _honored_ I am that you looked at me and saw something worthy of the affection of a soul and heart like yours. And I’ve been so  _blind_ these past few months, so focused on a stupid boy who treated me like something lesser, when someone so perfect who treated me like an equal, a partner, was here all along. But I know, now. Deep down, I  _had_ known, for awhile, that you were so much better than some petty quest for vengeance. And, silently, unwittingly, I was falling, maybe already have fallen completely in love with you too, Hajime. As much as you deserve it, I’m not going to list everything off that I’ve fallen in love with, because I could spend an entire week doing that, and maybe I’ll do just that later, when we’ve sorted through all this... but first, well, I can’t assume that you even want to stay with me for that long, as much as I hope you do. But please know, Hajime, that I am so utterly in love with you, so gone for you, and all I want now is to show you just how much, and for you to know that, if you’ll trust me with it, your heart is safe in my hands and I’ll make sure to treasure it the way I should have been all this time.”

Tooru finished with a deep exhale. There was a sniffle. Tooru looked up, startling to find Hajime half glaring at him through silent tears that he let freely fall down his cheeks, and Tooru belatedly realized a few had fallen onto their clasped hands. “Hajime?” 

“Are you done now?” Hajime questioned, attempting roughness but failing horribly. Tooru nodded. A smile broke through Hajime’s tears as he smacked the brunette in the back of the head with his free hand.

Tooru’s immediately reaction was a yelp, but he immediately choked down on his whine of protest because really, he deserved so much more than that. He deserved to be slapped across the face, maybe punched in the gut, to have Hajime just up and leave him right then. Instead though, Hajime gripped Tooru’s shirt in a fist, pulling him forward. “You really are a dumbass.”

“Hey—!”

“Because like hell I’m going to leave you, even after all the shit you’ve put me through. Because I’m completely gone and utterly in love with you too, Oikawa Tooru, foolishly have been for too long and won’t be stopping anytime soon, even if it’d probably make my life way less of a living hell,” and then Hajime was slamming their lips together. 

Inexplicable relief rushed through Tooru as he let go of Hajime’s hands to pull him closer, letting out a little cry of happiness. Hajime was in a much similar state, and Tooru could taste the salt of his tears, of his own tears as a few escaped him. Hajime was clinging onto him, desperate, hopeful, scared, like his dreams were finally coming true, but if he let go, they would disappear into thib air. That certainly wouldn’t do.

Tooru pulled away, but only enough so that he could talk, their faces still close enough that their breaths mingled. “Will you let me, then, Hajime, show you my love?”

“Yes,” Hajime breathed.

Tooru smiled, soft and genuine, eyes shining with an unabashed affection. He scooped up Hajime in his arms and carried him to his bedroom. When he laid Hajime down in the sheets, it was with a gentle reverence. That same gentle reverence remained in every touch, every kiss, every word of praise as Tooru worshiped Hajime and his body, leaving no sliver of skin untouched, kissing Hajime silly until their lips were plump and bright red, beyond after that. When he sunk into Hajime deeply and completely, it was slow and careful, even slower still was the pace he set for them.

There, bathed in the light of the sun streaming in through billowing curtains, Tooru made love to Hajime. He broke him in an entirely new way, shedding away the layers of ruthless sex and shallow affection, replacing it instead with the molten liquid of his burning heart, wrapping it in the warmth of the love he intended to share, protecting it with a combination of his deepest loyalty and dedication. Over and over again, he whispered soft declarations of love to Hajime, assuring him that this was real, that he was his and vice versa, that he wasn’t going anywhere and his weary and aching heart could finally rest easy now. It was sweet, it was tender, it was something so deep and special and beautiful that Tooru didn’t think he could ever hope to describe that day, that moment, accurately. 

He kissed away Hajime’s tears, and when Hajime finally relaxed and truly believed, felt everything warm and wonderful that Tooru was pouring between them, he smiled, so big and loving and bright that Tooru fell in love all over again in that instant. He couldn’t believe how so insanely lucky he was, to have Hajime for himself, to be given the opportunity to love him and be loved by him. 

After they both finished together, and Tooru cleaned them both off, he fell back into the bed, both silently agreeing to just stay and bask in the comfort each other for awhile. He pulled Hajime close against him, wrapping him in his arms and holding him the way he deserved to be held, shielded from all the pain and meanness of the world, safe in arms that were never letting him go, embraced tenderly, lovingly, with all the affection of a heart that loved him.

Tooru sighed happily, burying his face into the crown of Hajime’s head, who in turned had his face buried in Tooru’s chest. They stayed like that for a long while, hearts beating in sync, knowing that this time, they truly had each other.

* * *

“Listen, I’m happy they finally got their shit together, I really am, but they are absolutely disgusting.” Takahiro spoke as he stood with Issei, Sayuri and Miyoko. They were all waiting, watching as Tooru led Hajime to one of the many claw machines inside the arcade, the former’s hands over his boyfriend’s eyes. Tooru had spotted something he wanted to claim, but he didn’t want Hajime to see, and the others, left behind in Tooru’s excitement, simply stood back and waited. It was probably for the best too; they were away from the imminent Tooru and Hajime affection zone.

After spending the entire day wrapped up in each other, Tooru and Hajime met with their friends to tell them that they were okay now, that everything was resolved. There were celebrations and cheers, and in the midst Tooru declared that they should all go out on a giant joint date. Now, a week later, they were finally getting around to said date, and within that week, the couple had become exceedingly domestic. 

Issei nodded in agreement while Miyoko gave them an incredulous expression, looking pointedly at how Issei had Takahiro wrapped in his arms from behind, then to herself and Sayuri, her girlfriend hanging off of her shoulders with her arms draped around. If Kotarou and Keiji were present she would be giving them an appraising look to, because they would definitely be in some lovey dovey pose too. As it was, Kotarou had run off with Keiji the second they had walked into the arcade. “We’re not any better.”

Takahiro waved a dismissive hand, sweeping it to gesture to themselves. “ _This_ , is normal,” he pointed to Tooru and Hajime, completely oblivious to their friends’ conversation, “ _That_ is not.”

Miyoko turned, finding Hajime pressed up against Tooru as the designer fiddled with the claw machine. From their viewpoint, they could see that Hajime had his face buried in Tooru’s neck, eyes most likely closed. She supposed her brother had a point, it would make more sense if Tooru just had Hajime wait with the rest of their friends, but it was like the two were in their honeymoon phase, and Tooru was as clingy as a leech to Hajime, wanting him at his side as much as possible, whether they went out or were just lounging around one of their apartments. And Hajime, obviously, was just as clingy. She tried to think of one time they hadn’t been touching in the last week, and came up blank.

The friends observed as Tooru continued to meticulously move the claw, his sharp eyes focused on something they couldn’t yet see. Then the claw dropped, came up, and in its metal grasp, a little Godzilla plushie. All four of them gaped, because they hadn’t even seen a Godzilla plushie amongst the pit of cute animals, all of which were much smaller than this particular prize. They all thought, how the hell had Tooru done so, and at the same time,  _of _ _course_ Tooru of all of them had seen it, probably by the barest hint of a teeny tiny spike poking out. Hell, _Hajime_ probably hadn’t seen it, either.

“Absolutely  _revolting_ ,” Takahiro continued.

“Whipped,” Issei agreed.

Sayuri snorted while Miyoko smacked both of them in jest. “It’s  _sweet_ .”

“Tooth-rottingly so,” Takahiro nodded. Miyoko rolled her eyes, giving up. 

Over by the claw machines, Tooru collected his prize, stepping away from Hajime, who still had his eyes closed. “Iwachan, hold out your hands.” 

Hajime did as told. Tooru placed the Godzilla plushie in his hands. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Hajime did. A ginormous grin broke out on his face at the plushie in his hands. It was a fat little thing, adorably so, with short legs and arms and cute little spikes and claws. The faux fur was dark grey and smooth, and on the face was tiny nose circles, big golden eyes, and an open mouth with a row of sewn on teeth. Hajime adored it. Tooru’s own grin split across his face at the way Hajime was looking at the plushie, and then Hajime looked up, smiled even brighter at Tooru, childish delight shining in his eyes, and Tooru felt his heart skip a few beats because his boyfriend should not be allowed to look so fucking  cute . “Thanks Tooru.” It was said softly, fondly, and Tooru just knew the look on his face would definitely earn himself endless teasing on how absolutely gone he was for Hajime. Hell, Takahiro and Issei were probably making comments right now.

But Tooru didn’t care about that. All he cared about was how happy Hajime looked, as he deserved to always be. “Haji,” he said, not that he had to, because Hajime was still looking at him.

“Hm?” Hajime asked anyway.

Tooru’s smile softened even more, full of tender affection. He rested his head against Hajime’s, both of them wrapped in their own little world. Completely uncaring of the environment around them, Tooru stole a quick, gentle kiss. He hovered just above Hajime, both still smiling softly. “Love you, Hajime.”

“Love y—“

“Hey! Are you two done being obnoxiously gay yet? The rest of us are still waiting, you know!” Takahiro’s voice cut through the air, effectively catching the attention of literally everyone around them.

Tooru and Hajime jumped, faces turning crimson. “Makki! You just ruined a perfectly romantic moment!”

“If you wanted romance then you shouldn’t have a, brought us along, and b, chosen an arcade! Now hurry up!” Takahiro yelled, entirely unapologetic of the scene he was causing.

Tooru grumbled, cursing his heathen of a best friend and sighing deeply, knowing he better get their asses moving or Takahiro wouldn’t shut up. “Come on, Iwachan.” He connected their hands and intertwined their fingers, gently tugging his boyfriend along.

Hajime just laughed, following after him while their four friends continued to be annoying. “Hey, Tooru,” he said, in a tone that encouraged the other to keep going, because he knew Tooru would stop and drop everything just to give Hajime his full attention.

“Yeah, Iwachan?” 

Hajime, still smiling like an idiot, plushie clutched in one hand, Tooru’s in the other, said only for the two of them, “I love you, too.”


End file.
